


illuminate.

by gingerthestormwitch



Series: epiphany [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Action & Romance, Adventure & Romance, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avenger Reader (Marvel), Avengers Family, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Depression, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Gratuitous Smut, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Murder, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, POV Bucky Barnes, Past Torture, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Postpartum Depression, Protective Bucky Barnes, Reader-Insert, Romance, Shameless Smut, Smut, Trauma, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:41:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 68,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27706412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerthestormwitch/pseuds/gingerthestormwitch
Summary: Sequel to epiphany.After the clash of the Avengers in Berlin and Siberia, you and Bucky have retreated to the defunct S.H.I.E.L.D. chalet safe-house with Steve, Natasha, Sam, Wanda, and Pietro. When T'Challa makes contact regarding Bucky's recovery, you and Bucky have some difficult decisions to make. With trouble is brewing in the cosmos and on Earth, will your and Bucky's love be enough to overcome everything that stands in your way?(Bucky x Reader)I don't own anything Marvel; they are just my playthings.My OC is mine though.
Relationships: Avengers Team/Guardians of the Galaxy Team, Avengers Team/Reader, Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, Tony Stark & Avengers Team
Series: epiphany [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025029
Comments: 55
Kudos: 58





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A teaser for you :3
> 
> WARNINGS: Character Death, Violence, and Gore

Prologue 

  
  


~*~*~*~

_The metal and concrete walls of the bunker had iced over. Clouds of breath puffed in front of your face as you soundlessly made your way down the halls. Silence permeated the facility, save for the creak and groan of contracting metal and your ragged breathing. You hoped you weren’t too late. With your gun raised, you turned a corner and raced down the long hallway toward your team’s last pinged location._

_The hallway opened up to a large cavernous chamber. Six pods illuminated by a sickly yellow glow dominated both sides of the room. They hissed with a constant rush of escaping gas. But, that wasn’t what drew your attention. The bodies of your teammates lay scattered around the Memory Suppression Machine. Your breath caught as you swallowed a scream. You didn’t want to give away your position._

_Scott lay crumpled on the ground nearest you. His helmet had been blown off; the right side of his face was burned. You bent down to check his nonexistent pulse. Wanda lay sprawled out on the floor. Her dark hair fanned out like a crown above her head; one arm outstretched desperate to reach something. She had multiple gunshot wounds to her chest and abdomen. Dark viscous blood pooled around her. Her sad eyes looked toward the person next to her. Sam’s broken body rested a few feet away. The wings of his Exo suit had been torn clean off and the pieces were scattered all around. A gaping hole covered most of his chest, the edges of skin and flesh burnt and still smoking. You heard a faint rustle of something slide across the floor and pointed your gun in the direction of the noise. You gasped, “Dad!” You ran to him, falling harshly on your knees beside him. Your gun clattered to the floor as you placed Clint’s head in your lap._

_Blood trickled from his pale lips as he coughed, “Nightingale.” His face twisted in a grimace and he gave a low moan._

_You assessed his injuries. His leg bent at an unnatural angle. A dark slick stain spread across his back tactical suit. Multiple gunshot wounds littered his abdomen. “Shhh...” you soothed. “It’s alright. I got you.” You pressed your hand on the worst of his wounds in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. He winced at the pressure. “I need you to stay with me...okay? I...I’m gonna get you out of here.”_

_Shakily, Clint laid his hand over yours and squeezed. “I couldn’t stop him...”_

_“I know, I know.” You choked back a sob. “We need to get outta here...You’re gonna-”_

_Clint squeezed your hand once more and shook his head, “Tell...Tell Laura...I’m sorry...”_

_“Nuh-uh,” you shook your head violently; hot fat tears slid down your cheeks. “You’re not doing that...You are not going to give up, Clint...We-”_

_You stopped short as Clint’s hand reached up to stroke your cheek. “I love...” The light faded from his eyes as his hand fell away from your face, staining your skin with his blood._

_“No, Dad, no.” A stifled mournful cry tumbled from your lips as you clutched his lifeless body to your chest. Repulsor blasts and the screams of two men echoed in a room off the main chamber. You collected yourself after a moment. You pressed a gentle kiss against Clint’s forehead before closing his eyes. “I’m sorry...” Gently you laid him on the ground, placing his bow across his chest; a knightly burial pose._

_More screams rebounded off the metal walls into the attached silo. Metal clashed against metal. Pings of ricocheted bullets rang out. Repulsors whined as they shot multiple rounds of energy blasts. Down in the silo, near the exhaust vents, you saw him._

_Bucky had a hold of Steve’s shield and was using it to block the blasts from Tony’s arc reactor. His other hand held a gun using it to fire upon his other three attackers not clothed in metal armor. The other Winter Soldiers._

_A drop of liquid hit your cheek. Tearing your eyes from the scene in front of you, you reached up to touch your face. Your fingertips came away red. Startled, you looked up to the metal platforms that ringed the inside of the silo. You brought your hand to your mouth to stifle a scream; Steve’s body laid heavily on the platform right above your head, surrounded by the two bodies of his attackers. Blood dripped from a hole in between his eyes._

_A guttural scream ripped your eyes from Steve’s lifeless gaze. A loud clang of metal resounded off the walls. Bucky staggered, toward you. He was alone. “Doll?” he grunted before his eyes rolled back in his head; he fell to the floor with a heavy thud._

_Instantly, you were at his side with your knees under his head. “James!” you shook him. He didn’t stir. “Goddammit, James, you...you can’t leave me!” You began to hyperventilate. “You...promised...You promised...” You clutched his jacket as you shook with sobs._

_Metal boots pounded toward you, you heard the repulsors’ charging whine and the cock of guns. Metal ground against each other as Tony’s helmet disengaged; the pure hatred and anger poured off of him. You stared him down. “Why, Tony?”_

_A metal hand encircled your upper arm with enough force to shatter bone. You tore your gaze from Tony and the Winter Soldiers that flanked him to the man you loved. Bucky’s eyes were wild as he searched your face. One lone tear escaped the corner of his eye and disappeared into his dark matted hair. “Doll, I love-” The grip on your arm lessened as his hand slowly slid down to the floor. His steel-blue eyes dulled as one final gasp pushed past his lips._

_And with it, your heart shattered into a million pieces. There would be no healing this time. No one to pull you back from the all-consuming darkness. Everyone who had ever loved you was gone. You looked back up to Tony and his soldiers; their eyes trained on your every move._

_You took a stuttering breath. “Why, Tony?” you asked again. Your brittle voice was small._

_Tony smirked. “Ah, kitten,” He said condescendingly. “You take away my family, I take away yours.”_

_You swallowed and gave a slight nod. Turning your attention once more to the love of your life. You tenderly pushed his hair out of his face, allowing your fingers to trace the curve of his jaw. The whine of repulsor blasts sounded once more as you pressed your lips to his._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes:
> 
> Reminder: anything in italics is either a.) a flashback; b.) a dream; or c.) character thoughts.
> 
> Hope you liked the prologue!
> 
> I'm excited about this story and exploring all the different relationships.
> 
> Please leave kudos or a comment if you are enjoying the story! Or share it with others who enjoy these types of fics!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger.


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Character death; violence.

**_“Do you picture me, what do you see?_ **

**_Maybe a future full of unwritten things_ **

**_We hope to write from what's been done_ **

**_Look for a future no one else has sung.”_ **

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**HYDRA Siberian Facility. Russia. June 2016.**

You stared down the hallway. Had it always been this short? Last time you were here it seemed to go on forever. Cold seeped from the metal walls. You had slowed your pace, coming to a full stop in the middle of the hallway. Last night’s nightmare replayed in your mind; flashes of the lifeless bodies of your team flicked through it at a rapid pace. Your breath quickened. The metallic tang of pennies flooded your mouth as your stomach rolled. Your knuckles went white as they gripped your gun. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to pull yourself together.

“ _It was just a dream. Nothing more. Tony isn’t here. The Soldiers are dead. Scott’s safe. Wanda’s safe. Sam’s safe. Clint’s safe. Steve’s safe. Bucky’s safe. I’m safe.”_

You repeated this over and over in your head like a desperate prayer. You had the same dream several times over the last few months; oftentimes Bucky had to shake you awake. The dream was your worst fear realized. Everyone you loved and who loved you dead and gone, leaving you alone. You’d spend the next several minutes sobbing in Bucky’s arms before falling back asleep as he soothed you. You hoped by coming on this mission, you would be able to rid yourself of the horrific vision once and for all.

“Y/N,” a familiar voice dragged you from your thoughts. “What’s your status?” A tinge of concern lingered in Steve Rogers’ voice. You had been silent for too long and missed your check-in.

You shook your head to clear your thoughts and took a deep breath before answering, “Outside the main chamber.” You adjusted the grip on your Sig Sauer before moving into the large space. Using her powers, Wanda had insisted that the facility was deserted and the Quinjet’s scans confirmed her findings. But, you remained on edge, wanting nothing more than to destroy the place where Bucky had been held captive and tortured for the better half of a century.

While Steve, Wanda, and Pietro placed demolition charges at key structural points around the bunker, you had been tasked with locating HYDRA’s Winter Soldier manual. With Zemo locked away in Germany and most of Bucky’s former handlers dead, there was a slim chance that anyone else knew the trigger words. However, you didn’t want to give anyone that kind of power of Bucky ever again. And some part of you thought maybe by having Bucky destroy a piece of his HYDRA past, it would be another step in the healing process, exorcising one more ghost, another step towards freedom.

You observed the room. The cryo-freeze pods had been destroyed. Their yellow lights had gone out; they no longer spewed vapor. The stench of the thawed dead bodies of the five other Winter Soldiers filled your nose. You took deep breaths to allow your nose to get used to the smell. The wretched Memory Suppression Machine lay in scattered pieces about the room. You stepped on part of a computer keyboard and felt the satisfying crunch of plastic underneath your foot. A mountain of twisting debris blocked the door to the control room where Zemo had barricaded himself during his confrontation with Steve, Tony, and Bucky. You radioed back to your teammates, “Wanda, I’m going to need assistance in the main chamber, please.”

“Copy that,” came the twins' voices.

A sudden rush of air whipped your hair around as Wanda and Pietro suddenly appeared by your side. You jumped, “Dear Christ! I don’t think I will ever get used to that.”

“And I’ll keep doing it just to watch you flinch,” Pietro teased, setting down his sister. “I find it rather amusing.” He flashed you a playful grin.

You rolled your eyes with a heavy sigh. “Go and finish helping, Steve,” you told him curtly. “Wanda and I can take it from here.”

Pietro eyed his sister; she gave a slight nod of her head. “I can handle this,” she assured, laying her hand on his arm. He nodded before disappearing down the hallway in a flash of blue.

It wasn’t that you disliked Wanda or Pietro. Far from it. However, to you, they were a reminder of all you had lost when Hunter died. It killed you to watch them interact, expanding the ache in your chest you had tried so hard to fill over the last few years. You deliberately avoided them when you could and were civil when you couldn’t, not out of malice but out of self-preservation.

Wanda watched you carefully for a moment before waves of rippling red energy flowed from her hands. She made quick and easy work of the blocked doorway, even opened the door for you to walk through. Adjusting the grip on your gun once more, you gave her a curt nod before moving into the room. You heard her follow you, her boots clicked loudly across the concrete floor. You ignored her, searching for the small red leather book.

“Anything else I can do?” she asked in a kind voice.

“No, I’m good, Wanda,” you said, not bothering to look up at her. “Thanks.”

“If you’re sure...”

You nodded, “Yeah, I’m sure.” Your eyes fell on the tattered red manual. You held it up over your shoulder for Wanda to see. “I got what I came for.” You stuffed the manual in your pack. “You should head back to the others. I’m going to look around a bit more, see if I can find the records room.”

She nodded, “Alright.”

You moved past her and down the hallway you had come through, Stopping at the junction, you debated which way to go.

“Go left,” she called out. You turned toward her voice. She pointed at a map on the wall in the office. “It’s the last door on the right.”

You gave her a nod, “Thanks. I won’t be long.”

She nodded before signaling her brother for a pick-up. You felt another gust of wind fly past you as Pietro made his way toward his sister.

“Specimen,” you hailed Steve via your comm, “I have the book. I’m headed to the records room to see if I can find anything else useful before this place goes up like the Death Star.”

“You have five minutes,” Steve answered. “Just finished setting up the charges. We are headed back to the jet now. Signal for Pietro when you're done.”

“I am more than capable of making my way out on my own,” you huffed as you stepped into the records room. You didn’t know exactly what you were looking for, just anything and everything to do with Bucky. You scanned the rows upon rows of file boxes, hoping a word or name would jump out at you.

“The sooner we get out of here the better, Y/N,” Steve said. “I don’t need you getting lost in the labyrinth.”

“So, Pietro is my Ariadne’s thread?” You continued to make your way up and down the aisles of boxes.

“Exactly. Now you have three minutes.”

“Aye Aye! Cap’n!” You continued searching; determined to make the most of your three minutes. And then you saw it, a tattered water-stained file box with the year 1945 written on the side toward the back of the room. Tossing the other boxes to the side, you grasped the handle and wretched it toward the front of the shelf. Carefully lifting the lid you peered inside. There were multiple waterlogged file folders. The writing or type on the fused-together pages within them had long since faded away. You placed them carefully to the side. Your lips parted when you glimpsed what was underneath. The dull gleam of silver stood out against the faded navy blue fabric. Gingerly, you picked up a pair of dog tags and ran your fingers over the stamped letters.

**JAMES B. BARNES**

**32557038 T41 42 O**

**R. BARNES**

**3092 STOCKTON RD**

**SHELBYVILLE, IN P**

You smiled softly, placing them around your neck and tucked them into your jacket. You reached in the box and pulled out a frayed navy jacket. You would recognize this garment anywhere. The tattered and battle-worn material had softened with age. Most of the left sleeve was missing. Dark flecks of dried blood littered the left side. You grazed your thumb over the embroidered wing on the sleeve, like the ones on the sides of Steve’s helmet. The symbol for the Howling Commandos.

You placed the jacket and files back into the box when a rush of air blew past you once more, kicking up dust and loose papers. You sneezed violently. Pietro appeared at your side once more. “The captain says it’s time to go,” he smirked at your annoyed expression.

You nodded, grabbing the box. “Can’t keep the boss waiting,” you quipped. Pietro snorted before picking you up in one smooth motion and taking off down the hallway. A few seconds later, your feet touched the Quinjet floor. Your head swam as you stumbled like a newborn fawn into the nearest open seat. “Okay, nope, never doing that again,” you panted, dropping the box with a thud. You put your head between your knees as the jet shuddered to life.

A few moments passed before you felt the nausea pass and the dizziness fade. You heard the distant roar of explosions and made your way to the cockpit. Steve had the jet hover for a moment to observe the destruction of the HYDRA facility. You watched columns of smoke and flame billow out of the exhaust vents. Parts of the mountainside crumbled with the resulting avalanche. You both breathed a sigh of relief. “Good fucking riddance,” Steve murmured.

“Language,” you teased, bumping him lightly in the shoulder with your elbow.

He rolled his eyes before turning the jet around and set a course for the chalet. Pushing back from the console, he turned to you and removed his helmet. “You find anything useful?”

You smiled, pulling the dog tags from your jacket. “I found these,” you handed them to him, “along with his old Howling Commando uniform and some files, which are probably unreadable, but I will look over them in more depth when we get back.”

Steve gazed at the stamped metal with a small smile and handed them back to you after a moment. “I think he will be happy to have these back.”

“I think so too,” you replied with a smile, placing them around your neck once more.

An alert dinged on the console’s control panel before a video feed appeared on the heads-up display.

“How’s everything going?” asked Sam.

“Manual acquired and facility destroyed. Headed back now. ETA 1800 hours,” Steve answered.

“You boys playing nice?” you asked. Sam started to say something.

“I’ve been playing referee,” Natasha quipped off-camera, cutting him off.

You shook your head. The weird love-hate relationship between Bucky and Sam was something you didn’t think you ever fully understand. One minute they were trading insults and bordering on a physical altercation; the next minute they were laughing and joking like they had been best friends for years.

Sam looked offended and shot her a dirty look, “He started it!”

“I did not,” you heard Bucky yell faintly from across the chalet.

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

Natasha darted into frame, making eye contact with you and Steve, “Guys, I swear...”

Steve chuckled and shook his head as Bucky and Sam continued to argue. Despite all their bickering, you both knew they would never come to blows.

“Boys...” you warned; your tone reflecting that of your late grandfather. When you were younger, You and Hunter dubbed it “the tone”; It had been enough to send a slight tick through your chest when he used it. “The tone” never meant anything good, but the worst punishment you ever endured at the hands of your grandfather was being grounded for a week with no music. A sentence worse than death in your book to be sure.

“Just hurry back,” Natasha said before ducking out of frame.

“Yeah, I’m making breakfast for dinner,” Sam said with a proud smile.

“Is that all you know how to make, Sam?” you asked with a slight chuckle.

“Yes,” Wanda and Steve answered.

Sam rolled his eyes, “See if I ever cook for you guys again.”

“A small mercy,” Bucky yelled.

“You know what, Skywalker?” Sam started.

“Skywalker isn’t an insult, Bird Brain; it’s a-” Bucky said as the video disconnected.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. August 2016.**

You couldn’t help but smile as the jet landed. The sun had disappeared behind the mountain peaks, blanketing the valley in shadow. But, the lights from within the chalet glowed warmly.

As the ramp descended, Pietro grabbed Wanda and ran inside, stating he was starving. You stayed behind to help Steve power down the jet and complete final checks of the onboard systems. Outside the window of the cockpit. You spotted a long one-armed figure walk onto the terrace. You smiled and gave a small wave.

Steve followed your gaze and chuckled. “Go on, sweetheart. I got it from here.”

You nodded and patted his shoulder, “See you inside.” You grabbed the file box before exiting the jet.

Bucky met you halfway to the chalet, eager to see you. He had been worried about you going on this mission, despite the lack of apparent danger. But you had insisted, saying:

“ _It’s time to let the past die.”_

You smiled as Bucky tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Miss me, Sarge?” you asked.

“Always, doll,” he replied. He eyed the file box in your hands. “What ya got there?”

Your smile grew, “I found a few things that belong to you.” He raised an eyebrow; his lips parted in a slight gasp. “C’mon, I’ll show you,” you gestured towards the terrace. Setting the box down on the wicker couch, you beckoned Bucky over. “Turns out the people of HYDRA were a buncha pack-rats.”

You gestured for him to open the box. As he did, his eyes lit up in recognition over his faded Howling Commandos uniform. He gingerly lifted it from the box and ran his hand over the fabric, thumbing the embroidered wing. “This was in the bunker?” he asked.

You nodded, “Mhmm, and so were these.” You tugged the dog tags out of your jacket. His head turned at the jingle of the monel plates. You lifted the chain over your head and placed them in his palm.

“I thought I had lost these in the fall,” he said as he ran his thumb over the stamped metal.

You smiled, “I also found some files, but I don’t know if any of them are legible. They are pretty damaged. Not to mention, they are all in Russian; so, I will need Nat’s help in deciphering what I can.” You knew Bucky didn’t like to speak Russian anymore, much less read it. It reminded him too much of his past, too much of HYDRA, which is why he had taught you Romanian instead of Russian.

“ _I also like the idea of us having a language we can converse in where no one will understand us,” Bucky said. Later that night, you and Bucky talked almost exclusively in Romanian around the others. Their reactions were priceless. You and Bucky acted like you were talking shit, but in reality, you were discussing a movie you had recently watched. Natasha had caught onto your game early and ignored you. Steve, Wanda, and Pietro spent the rest of the night confused. But, Sam had almost blown a gasket. He hated not being in on the joke which Bucky found especially hilarious._

He nodded, never taking his eyes off the tags. You placed them around his neck, resting them over his heart. He covered your hand with his and held it to his chest. He looked at you with a small sigh of gratitude, “Thank you, doll.” His thumb stroked the back of your hand.

You smiled and kissed him, “No problem, Sarge.” Your free hand cupped his face tenderly and kissed him once more.

“Gah, you two need to get a room,” Sam said in disgust from the doorway.

Pulling away, you rolled your eyes and gathered the box, “A făcut vafe?” you asked Bucky, feigning annoyance at Sam as you brushed past him. _(“Did he make waffles?”)_

“Oh, don’t you two start this bullshit again,” Sam exacerbated.

“Language!” called Steve as he made his way up the steps. Sam rolled his eyes.

Bucky tossed Sam a dirty look as he followed you inside, “Da, a făcut-o. Ți-a făcut preferatul. Vafe cu afine.” _(“Yes, he did. He made your favorite. Blueberry waffles.”)_

“A fost drăguț din partea lui. Acum, mă simt vinovat că vorbesc limba română,” you said, placing the box on the coffee table. _(“That was sweet of him. Now, I feel guilty for speaking Romanian.”)_

“Ei bine, el a ars slănină din nou,” Bucky said as he walked to the kitchen. _(“Well, he did burn the bacon again.”)_

You shot daggers in Sam’s direction as you picked up a plate, “Acum, că este cu adevărat de neiertat.” _(“Now, that is truly unforgivable.”)_ You stacked your plate high with blueberry waffles as you watched Sam become more flustered with every Romanian word uttered.

“Păcatul cel mai cardinal,” Bucky concurred as he spooned eggs on his plate. ( _“The most cardinal sin.”)_

Catching on to the game, Pietro and Wanda reverted to speaking in their language for the majority of dinner, their conversation punctuated by giggles as Sam huffed in frustration. “Oh, c’mon! Not you too!”

Natasha snorted as she sipped a coffee; she murmured something to Steve in French. He answered back with a sly smile on his face, as Sam watched him incredulously.

“Since when do you speak French?!” he half-shouted; his mouth full.

“Certains d’entre nous ont effectivement prêté attention à nos cours de langues étrangères,” replied Steve with a smirk. _(“Some of us actually paid attention in our foreign language classes.”)_ You could almost see the steam pouring out of Sam’s ears.

Natasha chuckled and leaned closer to you, “Crezi că s-a săturat?” _(“Do you think he has had enough?”)_ Sam looked her way wide-eyed.

You shook your head and gestured to Sam with your fork, “A ars șunca.” _(“He burned the bacon.”)_

Natasha shrugged, eyeing Sam with a steely glare, “Destul de corect.” _(“Fair enough.”)_ She turned her attention back to her dinner.

“You speak Romanian too?!” Sam said in a high-pitched voice.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


_Bucky stood next to Howard Stark in his lab as he examined the HYDRA cartridge Steve had swiped from the facility in Kreuschberg. Unsure about the substance within the cartridge, the millionaire weapons contractor used mechanical arms to handle it behind a thick glass chamber. Bucky looked on in fascination._

_He had become close to Howard over the past few weeks, especially when Howard learned of his keen interest in science and engineering. Howard allowed Bucky to shadow him around the lab when he discovered the former POW was the only one who could fully understand the concepts he was talking about. Even going so far as to offer Bucky an internship at Stark Industries once the war was over._

_Bucky and Howard worked together to make sure the Howling Commandos were outfitted with the best materials and weapons. Bucky figured this was his contribution to keeping Steve as safe as possible as Captain America no longer needed him to fight his battles._

“ _Emission signature is unusual. Alpha and beta ray neutral,” Howard said. Bucky nodded as he dutifully took notes. “Though I doubt Rogers picked up on that,” Howard smirked. Bucky chortled. He and Howard liked to rag on Steve together. Their friendship cemented when Howard informed Bucky of Steve’s thought that the word “fondue” meant sex. He was the first person to get Bucky to genuinely laugh for the first time in months._

“ _Seems harmless enough,” Bucky said, turning his attention back to the cartridge as Howard slowly extracted a glowing blue pellet._

_Howard nodded, “Hard to see what all the fuss is about.” He moved the pellet to touch the other mechanical arm. There was a bright flash of light as the material exploded, shattering the glass. The resulting explosion sent Bucky and Howard careening into the brick wall behind them._

_Bucky rolled over onto his side, coughing violently. Smoke filled the lab. Strands of his hair were singed; soot covered his lab coat. He slowly sat up, rubbing the back of his head. He gave a low chuckle, “Okay, I will write that down.” He looked over at Howard. The man hadn’t moved._

“ _Stark?” Bucky asked; he rolled him over. Howard’s face was smashed in, beaten to a bloody pulp. He was almost unrecognizable. Bucky stared at the lifeless man, confused. “Wha-”_

“ **_HOWARD!_ ** _” a woman screamed._

_Bucky’s head whipped around in the direction of the sound. But no longer was he in the SSR laboratory. Instead, he stood on the side of a dark one-lane road. Wet leaves littered the ground, hissing as embers from a burning car hit them. He held an older man by the hair; his metal fist poised to strike._

_The older man looked up at Bucky. Fear and recognition flooded his features. “Sergeant Barnes?” he croaked._

“ _Howard?” Bucky thought as his fist came down hard on his friend’s face multiple times. “_ **_NO!_ ** _” He wanted to yell, but he stayed silent. Bucky was horrified at his lack of agency. This was his friend. Why? Why would he do something like this? With no control over his actions, he let Howard’s body fall to the ground with a thud before dragging him back to the car. He placed him in the driver’s seat._

_Whimpers of an injured woman could be heard from within. Howard’s wife, Marie. Involuntarily, he stalked around the car to the passenger-side door. “Howard...Howard...” she pleaded softly._

_Bucky reached in with his right hand. He felt the warmth of her neck and her racing pulse. Then he squeezed. As Marie struggled to breathe, Bucky willed himself to let go. “Don’t! Stop this!” he thought._

_He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the shine of the freshly waxed vehicle. His eyes were dead. Cold. Emotionless. Ruthless. The eyes of the Winter Soldier. The sight sent him into a panic. “No! No! That’s not me! I’m not a part of HYDRA anymore!” he thought as his hand fell away from Marie’s next once she stopped struggling. He looked at his hands in disgust._

_The whine of palm repulsors sounded behind him. He whipped around aiming his gun at the source of the noise. Steam rose off of a red and gold metal figure as they lifted their hands out in front of them._

“ _James.” A somewhat modulated voice of a woman sounded from the red and gold suit. The metal plates surrounding the figure’s head slid back, revealing a familiar face. The beautiful face of the person he loved most._

“ _Y/N?” Bucky thought. He tried to lower his gun, but he couldn’t move. Fear washed over him. “No! Go! Get outta here, doll!” he struggled to warn you._

_He watched you take in the scene. Tears streamed down your face. “James,” you said once again. “What have you done?” Your voice was thick with emotion as you sobbed. “They were our friends!”_

_Bucky turned back to the scene once more. The sight sent him reeling in shock. The bodies of Steve and Natasha took the place of Howard and Marie. “What have I done?!” he thought. He turned back to you, the gun still aimed at your exposed head, noting you weren’t alone. Another figure in a similar suit stood next to you. “Tony?” If he could have raised an eyebrow in confusion, he would have. Instead, the soldier’s face remained neutral._

_Tony’s helmet disengaged as he slowly crossed the distance between you and Bucky. “Look what you've done, Barnes,” he gestured to the scene around them. You continued to weep; your eyes fixed on Steve and Natasha. Tony stood close to the Winter Soldier. With a serpentine grin, he hissed in his ear, “You know she doesn’t love you...”_

“ _That’s not true.” Bucky thought. The Soldier said nothing._

“ _Never has and never will,” Tony’s voice sneered in Bucky’s other ear._

“ _Stop!” he thought. The Soldier remained steady, gun at the ready._

“ _How could she? After what you have done here tonight?”_

“ **_STOP!_ ** _”_

_The Soldier’s hand wavered above the trigger. His eyes trained on you._

“ _Stop fooling yourself, Солдат...How could she?” Instantly, Tony was at your side, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, a hollow gesture. “How could she love a monster like you?” Tony turned back to Bucky. “She’s going to be heartbroken, you know. Her closest friends are dead.” He gave a nonchalant shrug. “Oh well, might as well put her out of her misery.” He patted Bucky’s shoulder as he walked off into the forest._

“ _James,” you whispered; your voice filled with sorrow. It was a knife in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to run to you, to comfort you. He wanted so badly to tell you he loved you._

_The Soldier had other plans. He fired a single shot. You crumpled to the ground with a heavy metallic thud. Your hair covered your face. He could no longer hear your breathing._

“ _Oh, god.” Bucky felt himself say as he fell to his knees._

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. Later that night.**

You rolled over, reaching for Bucky in your sleep. His spot was empty and cold. The sheets were rumpled and damp with sweat. You frowned; he must have had a nightmare. Sometimes when he had a nightmare, he was hesitant to wake you. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you swung your legs off the side of the bed and pulled on your socks. Grabbing your oversize cardigan, you went searching for him.

Nightmares were a constant for the both of you. But, they had been decreasing in frequency, until the incident at the Siberian HYDRA facility. The whole ordeal had shaken both of you. You had nearly lost one another that day.

You checked his usual spot in the armchair by the windows, noting it to be empty. You frowned once more. A flicker of orange light caught your attention, drawing your gaze to the terrace. You peered out the window.

The light of the flames danced across the planes of Bucky’s face as he stared blankly into the fire-pit. You sighed in relief and padded toward the door. In a last-minute decision, you grabbed your pack on the way out. You had an idea.

There was a slight chill in the night air despite the season. The sky was clear and the crescent moon was slowly setting behind the mountains. The soft breeze picked up embers and sent them swirling in a passionate dance before seemingly disappearing into thin air. Bucky looked up when he heard you shut the door; his body tensed. When he realized it was only you, he relaxed.

“What are ya doin’ out here, doll?” he asked with a forced smile. You could read him like a book. Something was on his mind. Something he would rather not discuss. You padded over and sat next to him. He placed his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in close. You leaned against his broad chest, instantly feeling better with his touch.

“I woke up and you were gone,” you said as you traced circles on his thigh.

“Hmmm,” he hummed. “I couldn’t sleep.”

You nodded, “Another nightmare?”

“No different from my normal ones...” he minimized.

“Your normal nightmares don’t usually warrant late-night bonfires.”

“Didn’t want to wake you,” he deflected.

“We’re supposed to lean on each other, Sarge.” You turned slightly to face him. “That’s what partners do.” You gave him a small smile. “You can tell me anything.”

He nodded minutely and was silent for a moment before speaking. “I dreamed of Howard and Marie again.” His gaze unfocused, transporting him to someplace far away. “I dreamed I was _him_ again. Only this time, I was fully aware of my actions, and no matter how much I wanted to...no matter how hard I tried...I couldn’t do anything to stop _him_ .” You took his hand interlacing his fingers with your own and squeezed it. “Stark was there and...then Howard and Marie’s bodies turned into Steve and Natasha.” He turned to look at you. “You were there too.” His piercing eyes searched your face. “You were heartbroken at what _he_ had done...what _I_ had done.”

“It was just a dream,” you soothed, stroking his face.

He shook his head. “That wasn’t even the worst part...” he sighed, turning his gaze back toward the fire. “The worst part was that Stark was in my ear telling me I was a monster and that you could never love me...and I believed him.” He breathed a heavy sigh. “He told me to put you out of your misery; so, I did.” He studied the pattern of the brick pavers below him. “...I killed you.”

You sighed shakily, determined not to cry. He was terrified and ashamed. His body language said it all. Bringing his hand to your lips, you kissed his palm before placing it on your chest over your heart. “I’m still here,” you whispered. “My heart is still beating.” He remained silent, staring at the ground; his brow furrowed. “You, Bucky Barnes, could never do something like that. You never would.”

“But, _he_ could...” he said softly.

“Well, _he_ won’t be making any more appearances for much longer.”

“You don’t know that...”

You kissed the back of his hand before rummaging through your pack. You pulled out the worn red leather book and handed it to him. He took it from you hesitantly, almost afraid to touch it. “I would like to hope that anyone who knows the trigger words is either dead or locked away. And, until T’Challa contacts us to come to Wakanda, we can take steps to make sure no one will ever be able to turn you into a weapon again.” You nodded to the fire.

Bucky looked from the book back to you. You nodded reassuringly. With a sigh, Bucky tossed the book into the flames. The cover slowly blackened as the edges of the pages caught fire. Black smoke curled up from the manual. Darkness being burned away by the light. He watched it burn for a moment before turning back to you. “I can help but feel that this is only symbolic and may not actually change anything,” he said.

You shrugged, “Maybe not, but did it make you feel any better?”

Bucky nodded.

“Then that’s all that matters.”

He rested his hand on your upper thigh as he leaned in. Your body sang when his lips touched yours in a gentle kiss. After a moment, he pulled away; his eyes met yours. “I still honestly don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

You smiled and tucked a strand of hair that had fallen out of his small man-bun. “I keep telling you. You deserve everything and more. You are worthy.” You traced the contour of his lip with your thumb. “Meeting you, knowing you, loving you is the best thing to have ever happened to me.”

He kissed your palm. “Ditto,” he smiled softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> Some fluff and angst for y'all! Before we get into the nitty-gritty.
> 
> Don't worry Sam won't always be the odd man out. Haha!
> 
> Please leave a comment, kudos, or share with your friends if you are loving the story!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning Quote from "Illuminate" by Yellowcard


	3. Chapter Two

  
  


**_“'Cause they got the cages, they got the boxes_ **

**_And guns, they are the hunters, we are the foxes_ **

**_And we run_ ** **_”_ **

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**The Austrian Alps. August 2016.**

The bass rattled the windows of the sleek black SUV as it flew up and down the undulating mountain roads. The synthesized instrumentation and beats pulsed through your body moving you to dance as you drove down the mountainside. Ever since you discovered Natasha’s guilty pleasure of K-pop girl groups, both of you would blast the most popular songs and sing at the top of your lungs when it was your turn to make a supply trip. It’s also how you discovered she was a great singer and would often harmonize with you as you butchered the Korean lyrics while she sang them perfectly. In true Romanoff fashion, she absolutely forbid you from telling anyone of her talent. You agreed, happy to share some of her secrets. 

Today’s supply trip entailed gathering supplies for disguises. The appearances of the former Avengers were too recognizable. Steve had stopped shaving and was attempting to grow out a beard and his hair like Bucky. Pietro decided to let his hair grow out; you and Bucky had been surprised to learn that he bleached his hair. For the longest time, you thought his platinum locks were a side effect of his enhancement. Turns out his hair was just as dark as Wanda’s. Sam had stopped shaving as well.

For the girls, switching up their appearances required a bit more effort and was more difficult. You and Bucky had the nanomask if needed. But, Natasha’s red hair was the center of her identity as Black Widow. Wanda was also known for her dark long flowing locks and dark aesthetic. Bleach and hair dye were the first things on today’s shopping list along with some proper hair-cutting scissors and some new clothes.

“I can’t believe you are getting rid of the red, Nat,” you said as you pulled the car into the parking lot of a beauty supply store.

“And going blonde at that…” she mused as she pulled up her hoodie, concealing her signature fiery waves.

“What does Steve think?” you asked.

Natasha rolled her eyes, “He said I would look beautiful no matter my hair color” You sighed dreamily at the hopeless romantic that was Steve Rogers. Natasha playfully rolled her eyes and made a gagging noise in mock annoyance.

You chuckled. Natasha liked to keep her cards close to her chest unless she absolutely trusted the person she was talking to. It thrilled you that she had become more comfortable around you over the past few months despite the tense nature of your initial meeting. You suspected since Steve and Clint trusted you then she was more willing to accept you as well as Bucky into her little family of superheroes.

You and Natasha meandered the aisles of the beauty supply store gathering the necessary items needed to disguise yourselves. As you loaded the basket down with brushes, bowels, bleach, dye, and toner, you and Natasha swapped stories about Steve and Bucky, their habits, their similarities, and their quirks.

Dating super-soldiers who were almost 100 years old was a unique situation that not many people could understand. Such as, Steve’s need to scrape every last bit of something out of a jar before opening a new one, and Bucky’s preference to eat food that was in season. Their love for what your late grandfather would call “Must-Go” where they would take all the leftover ingredients in the refrigerator and make it into a soup. Sometimes it was delicious; other times it was barely palatable. Regardless of the taste, both Steve and Bucky would eat it all. Both of you discovered Steve and Bucky still folded their laundry in compliance with army regulations and carried everything with their left hand leaving their right hand free. You also discussed the various odd places Steve and Bucky have fallen asleep, such as under a tree or leaning against a wall, standing up. Their love for board games became a hot topic of discussion as you paid for your purchases.

“Bucky said due to Steve’s fragile state of health they were regulated to playing inside and spent most of their time playing board games to stave off the boredom,” you said.

“Ooo, you know what would be fun?” Natasha said a look of mischief played across her face. “If we got them to play Risk.”

“Dude, they would wipe the floor with us...” you started.

“No, no, just have them against each other.”

“Oh my, yeah I’d pay to watch that,” you said as you and Natasha walked back to the car. “That’s going on the shopping list and Cards Against Humanity. I need to see the extent of Steve’s dirty sense of humor is for myself.”

“Oh yes! I’m all for that!”

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**The S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. August 2016.**

The late summer day dawned sunny and somewhat chilly, promising the swiftAWSZ arrival of autumn. Despite the chill, your body was covered in a thin layer of sweat. Steve insisted that despite the circumstances it would be beneficial to keep as normal a routine as possible which meant daily training sessions and workouts for the fugitive superheroes. You spent the last few months sparring with all of your new teammates except for Pietro who’s enhancement made it impossible to spar with fairly. You learned new techniques, especially from Natasha. You also discovered Steve, Bucky, and Natasha shared similar fighting styles; it occurred to you that Bucky had trained both of them in some form or fashion at one point. Because of this, you were able to predict their moves and knew how to counter them. The first time you had sparred with Steve you had taken him off guard with your quick thinking and ability to counter his moves, knocking him on his ass a few times. The fact that you had taken down the mighty Captain America left you with a smug smile plastered across your face for the rest of the day.

Taking advantage of the nice day, you and Sam circled one another underneath a copse of trees, looking for openings to attack. Bucky and Steve stood off to the side to observe and advise.

“Give it up, Wilson,” you said in between heavy deep breaths. You eyed him carefully, never taking your eyes off him. “I’ve put you on your ass today more times than I can count.”

“What, you gettin’ sleepy?” Sam panted as he watched you. A thin sheen of sweat shone on his forehead.

“Just figured it was time for you mid-afternoon nap, old man,” you taunted.

“I’m 32!” Sam scoffed indigently. Bucky snorted and tried to suppress a laugh. Sam turned to give Bucky a dirty look, taking his eyes off you. You saw your chance and kicked him behind the knee sending him sprawling to the ground with a heavy thud. You heard the breath leave his body with a low groan. You couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face, “I believe this makes...what...4 times I’ve knocked you on your ass?” You looked at Bucky who beamed proudly. He looked at Steve for his reaction. Steve nodded approvingly.

“Shouldn’t have underestimated her, Sam,” Steve admonished playfully.

“She...they...they cheated...” Sam croaked in between strangled gasps.

Bucky snorted, “Sore loser.”

“Not my fault you can’t handle a bit of smack talk,” you chuckled, offering your hand for Sam to take. He stared at it apprehensively. You rolled your eyes, “No tricks.” Sam grasped your hand and you helped him to his feet. He grasped his side as he took deep breaths to try and even out his breathing as he limped over to a fallen log to rest as Steve and Bucky gathered the gear to take inside.

Bucky handed you a bottle of water as the four of you started for the chalet, “You’re getting better every day, doll.”

You chugged half of the bottle, before replying, “I had a great teacher.”

“Well, not to toot my own horn but-”

“Oh no, I was talking about Natasha,” you smiled wickedly before finishing the bottle and ascended the terrace steps. Steve shook his head with a small smile. Bucky gave a sharp breath through his nose and raised an eyebrow.

Sam laughed raggedly, “Shots fired.”

You chuckled as you entered the chalet, “Can’t have you getting a big head now.”

Bucky waggled his eyebrows and came up behind you, wrapping his arm around your waist. His fingers grazed your bare skin lightly, sending sparks of electricity up your spine. “That’s not what you said last night, doll,” he said huskily. He pressed his lips against the shell of your ear. You felt the heat spread across your cheeks.

“Get a fucking room,” Natasha said from her place at the dining table as she used your laptop to analyze the files you took from the Siberian HYDRA facility. Her newly bleached platinum shag shined like silk in the early afternoon light.

“Language,” Steve said, taking a sip of water, “Put a dollar in the swear jar.” He smiled cheekily.

Natasha wickedly returned his smile and sauntered into the kitchen with an exaggerated swing to her hips. She grabbed the tea tin and dumped the tea bags on the counter. She offered the empty tin to Steve. He picked it up questioningly and took another sip of his water. “Judging by the things you did to me last night, you need to put several dollars in the sin tin,” Natasha said nonchalantly. Steve choked, water dribbled down his face as he began to cough violently.

“HEY-OH!” you cried before dissolving into a fit of laughter.

Bucky chuckled and then clapped a red-faced Steve on the back to help him expel the water he had just inhaled.

Sam gave Natasha a fist bump as she sat back down at the table.

Pietro and Wanda walked in with shopping bags to their teammates howling in laughter. “What did we miss?” Pietro asked as he sat some bags down on the counter.

Wanda eyed each team member carefully; her eyes glowed a flash of red. “All of you need to put dollars in the ‘sin tin’,” she gestured to her teammates. “Especially, you two,” Wanda said, looking at you and Bucky with a cheeky smile. You hid your face in embarrassment as a shit-eating grin spread across Bucky’s face. Sam doubled over in laughter.

An alert dinged from your laptop. Natasha glanced at the notification badge. “Y/N, you have an email,” she said with a serious expression.

“From who?” you asked as you rummaged through the refrigerator.

“T’Challa.”

You stilled your movements. The room went quiet. Slowly you closed the refrigerator door and looked over at Bucky. To most, his expression would be unreadable, but to you, it was apprehensive and anxious. He glanced your way and swallowed. A nervous flutter settled in the pit of your stomach and your heart began to pound. The news should be exciting; Bucky deserved a chance at freedom. But, what would the cost of that freedom be? Brains were fickle things; even the brain of a super-soldier. So many things could go wrong.

“Want me to open it?” Natasha asked. Her hand hovered over the mouse. Bucky gave you a slight head shake.

“No, I got it,” you said. “Just ignore the notification, I’ll pull it up on Bucky’s tablet.”

Natasha nodded and returned her attention to the data analysis programs. Steve looked from you to Bucky; concern lacing his expression. The twins shared a confused look. Sam said nothing as he sipped his energy drink, but he eyed Steve’s reaction. You gestured for Bucky to follow you. Steve clapped him on the shoulder in encouragement. Hesitantly, he stood from his chair and followed you down the hall to your shared bedroom.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


Bucky grabbed his tablet off the charger and moved to sit next to you on the bed. Shoulders touching you pulled up the email application and logged in. T’Challa’s email stood unread at the top of your inbox. You sighed and looked over at Bucky. His gaze remained fixed on the tablet. You tapped email to open it.

**_Sergeant Barnes and Agent L/N,_ **

**_I hope this email finds you well and safely hidden. Despite some setbacks and unforeseen circumstances, I am pleased to inform you that my top scientist thinks she has found a way to safely remove HYDRA’s programming._ **

**_But rather than have me explain it poorly via email, I would like to extend an invitation to both of you, Captain Rogers, and Agent Romanoff to hear the scientist explain it herself here in Wakanda. She can certainly do it better than I can. Meeting in person will save time and eliminate the risks of miscommunication. She will also be able to answer any and all questions you may have about the process._ **

**_If you choose to accept my invitation, please respond immediately. Coordinates for your Quinjet will be provided to you and you are free to come as soon as you receive them. Be prepared to stay for a few days as well. I hope we will be able to help you find peace, Sergeant Barnes._ **

**_I look forward to seeing you here in Wakanda,_ **

**_King T’Challa_ **

“Well, that’s not cryptic at all,” you said after you finished reading the letter aloud. “I was hoping maybe we may get an idea of what the process would be like.”

Bucky sighed heavily, “Yeah, me too.”

“What do you want to do?” you asked, placing the tablet down and turning to him.

Bucky’s thumb and forefinger circled each other once again as he stared at the floor. “I honestly wasn’t expecting it to be this soon,” he murmured. “What do you think we should do?” He lifted his gaze from the floor to you.

“It’s your choice,” you said, taking his hand with a small smile.

Bucky squeezed your hand, “This affects you as much as it does me, doll.”

You sighed, “I would like to know more and be able to ask questions in real-time.” You squeezed his hand back, “But, this is your freedom, James. I will support you no matter what you decide.”

Bucky nodded, “Let’s tell Steve and Nat we are going to Wakanda.”

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**Wakanda. September 2016.**

“Are you sure we are heading in the right direction?” Natasha asked Steve as the Quinjet soared over the lush mountainous jungles of East Africa. “There is nothing out here.”

“These are the coordinates T’Challa gave us,” Steve said hesitantly; his knuckles went white as his grip tightened on the controls. Despite his reservations, he remained on course.

“I hope they are the right coordinates,” Bucky said as he observed the encroaching mountainside directly ahead. “Or we’re gonna land a helluva lot sooner than we planned.”

You checked the coordinates T’Challa had emailed to you once more and made sure they matched the coordinates entered into the jet’s navigational system. They did. You glanced up to the looming mountain as the jet drew closer. There was no reason not to trust T’Challa, but you couldn’t deny the nervous pit in your stomach.

“You may wanna strap yourselves in,” Steve said. “Just in case.”

You, Natasha, and Bucky made for the other pilot’s couches. You helped Bucky strap in before securing your seatbelt. Nervously, you reached for Bucky’s hand as the jet moved closer to the mountain. He smiled and took your hand in his, squeezing it. “It’s gonna be fine, doll.”

Just when it seemed like the jet was about to crash into the cliffside, the landscape before them disappeared in a haze of hexagonal layers of an energy field. The field in front of the jet opened in flashes of blue, revealing a large lake and a beautiful golden metropolis behind it. Your jaw dropped at the sight; words eluded you.

“What the hell?” Bucky said, his eyes widened as he took in the scenery.

Natasha stared at the city, mesmerized, “When T’Challa said his resources were considerable, I thought he was referring to his status as king, certainly not this.”

The three of you unbuckled your restraints and crowded around the cockpit as the city unfolded before you. The architecture was unlike anything you had ever seen; the buildings were a mix of elegant skyscrapers and giant-sized thatched huts. Ships that reminded you of dragonflies buzzed around the spiraling towers. The people milling about wore beautiful brightly colored clothing. For a supposed third world country, Wakanda seemed to be thriving, rivaling most of the world’s major cities in beauty and technology. “Motănel has a lot of explaining to do,” you said under your breath. The jet’s comm system crackled to life.

**“** **_Avengers Quinjet, welcome to Birnin Zana. We’ve been expecting you. There is a landing platform in front of the Citadel straight ahead. The king, queen mother, and princess eagerly await your arrival.”_ **

“Understood, and thank you,” Steve replied as he piloted the jet toward the palace.

“Looks like we are going to meet the whole family,” Natasha mused.

You tore your eyes away from the bustling metropolis below to glance at Bucky. His eyes sparkled in fascination as he took in the sights below. A huge grin plastered on his face like a kid in a candy store. “This place is amazing!” he said. His excitement was infectious; you smiled back at him.

The Quinjet landed on a platform in front of a large rounded building. Outside, you observed three people surrounded by women dressed in orange tunics carrying spears. You recognized one of the figures as T’Challa and you assumed the people standing next to him were the queen mother and the princess. The nervousness you had felt earlier returned full force as a dark cloud of fear settled over you. What would this process entail? What if it didn’t work? What would that mean for the two of you? You attempted swallowed anxiety, determined to remain strong for the man you loved. You, Bucky, and Natasha stood by the exit as Steve powered down the jet; when he joined you, he let down the ramp.

T’Challa, his mother and sister met you halfway across the platform. He extended his hand to Bucky first. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Sergeant Barnes,” he said.

Bucky smiled, shaking his hand, “It’s good to see you too, your highness.”

T’Challa smiled as he shook Natasha and Steve’s hands and exchanged pleasantries. His smile grew larger as he took yours. “Y/N, welcome to Wakanda. Your flight was pleasant, I trust?” he asked.

You chuckled, “It was; minus the small heart attack we all had when we thought you were sending us straight into a mountainside.”

“T’Challa,” his mother chided with a slight shake of her head, “You did not warn them of the barrier?” The princess snickered, covering her mouth with her hand in a vain attempt to hide her smile.

“This is my mother, Queen Ramonda,” T’Challa said as he gestured to the woman beside him.

The air about her exuded royalty and elegance. She held her head high; her hair was tucked underneath a gorgeous headdress. Her dark eyes were kind as she looked over you and your team. All of you nodded to her in respect. “Welcome to Wakanda,” she said; her voice was smooth and honeyed. “Rooms have been prepared for you and you are free to stay as long as you need to.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, your highness,” Steve said.

She smiled at him, “It’s the least we can do to repay for what you have done for T’Challa. Without your help, the true criminal behind the death of so many innocents would still be free.”

T’Challa nodded and gestured to the young girl next to him. She couldn’t have been any older than Tony’s protege, the Spider-Boy from Berlin. She had the same striking features as her mother. Her braids were arranged in an intricate knot on the top of her head. Her eyes sparkled in wonderment as she eyed your group. “This is my sister, Shuri. She is also the scientist behind the endeavor to remove HYDRA’s programming.”

Shuri grinned widely as she waved to your group. “It is so exciting to finally meet all of you,” she gestured to Bucky and Steve, “you two especially. I have read all about Erskine’s super-soldier serum and Zola’s experiments. After we fix Sergeant Barnes, I would love to get a DNA sample from both of you to analyze.”

Bucky and Steve shifted uncomfortably. You squeezed Bucky’s hand. Natasha placed her hand lightly on Steve’s arm.

“Shuri...” Ramonda chided.

“What?! Purely for scientific purposes of course.”

Ramonda shook her head in disappointment, “My apologies for my daughter’s behavior...she can be overzealous at times.”

“It’s all right,” Steve said with a tight smile. Bucky smiled slightly as well.

In an effort to move past the awkward moment, you gestured to the city around you. “This place is amazing; you have some explaining to do, motănel.”

T’Challa nodded, “Of course. In due time.” He gestured forward a fierce-looking woman wearing several golden neck rings. “This is General Okoye. The head of the Dora Milaje and the Wakandan Armed Forces.” Okoye nodded in greeting. You couldn’t help but notice Bucky and Steve stood a little straighter and at attention when introduced to the general; old Army habits truly died hard. You caught Natasha’s eye; she gave you a knowing smile. “She is also one of my most trusted advisors. You may see her and the other Dora around the palace.”

Both Steve and Bucky nodded in her direction, “Ma’am.”

T’Challa gestured for you to follow him into the Citadel. “We will let you get settled in your rooms before venturing to Shuri’s laboratory.”

“If it’s all the same to you, your highness,” Bucky said as your group followed him inside the building. “I think we are all pretty eager to hear the princess’ plan.” You, Natasha, and Steve nodded in agreement.

T’Challa nodded, “Very well. However, it will take time for Shuri to prepare everything. Until then allow me to give you a tour of the Golden City and I will explain our history.” He turned to Shuri, “Let me know when you are ready.”

Shuri nodded, “Yes, brother.” She broke off from the group and gave directives to the surrounding research assistants as she walked down an adjoining hall.

“I will leave you to it then,” Ramonda said, placing a light kiss on T’Challa’s cheek. “I have some business to take care of with the Tribal Council.”

“Of course, Mama,” T’Challa said.

Queen Ramonda turned you and your group. “I hope you enjoy your stay in Wakanda. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask.” The four of you nodded to her in gratitude.

“Okoye,” T’Challa said, “Have them prepare the Royal Talon Fighter.”

“Yes, my king,” Okoye answered.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**Mount Bashenga, Wakanda. September 2016.**

The thriving metropolis glittered below as T’Challa’s jet flew low over the city. You, Bucky, Steve, and Natasha took in the view enraptured as T’Challa explained the history of Wakanda.

“Millions of years ago a giant meteorite of vibranium crashed into the Earth and the metal affected the entire ecosystem around it. Eventually, five tribes settled this area and fought amongst themselves for many years. The first Black Panther, Bashenga united four of the tribes and became the first king of Wakanda. The fifth tribe, The Jabari, isolated themselves in the mountains, where they remain today. But after the events of the past few months, we are now on civil terms.”

“The vibranium. Is that why Wakanda has stayed isolated all these years?” you asked.

T’Challa nodded, “With it, Wakanda developed technology more rapidly than the rest of the world. But, as other nations began to explore the world with the intent of spreading their own culture and ideals, we developed a cloaking device to hide from the rest of the world. My ancestors worried that allowing outsiders in would eventually destroy our traditions.”

Natasha turned to T’Challa, “But, that’s changing, isn’t it? I saw the press conference you gave a few weeks after you returned to Wakanda.”

“Yes, albeit slowly, we are establishing an outreach center in Los Angeles and sending various outreach teams to our neighboring nations.”

“I can understand that,” Natasha said, turning back to the window.

“When the Avengers fought Klaue a few years ago, he said he only took a tiny piece of Wakanda’s vibranium,” Steve said. “How much vibranium is there?”

T’Challa nodded toward the mountain straight ahead. A massive statue of Bast had been chiseled out of the rock as if it were clawing its way out of the mountainside. A spire of metal emerged from the summit serving as an entrance into the depths of the mountain.

“The whole mountain?” Bucky asked skeptically.

“Yes, we call it the Great Mound,” T’Challa said as the Royal Talon made its way toward the mountain. His communicator dinged on his wrist. He held up his hand with his palm turned up. A hologram appeared from one of the beads on his bracelet.

“We are ready, brother,” Shuri said. You could see she had changed into an outfit more suitable for a lab.

“Very good, Shuri,” T’Challa said. “We are on our way.” Shuri nodded once and then disappeared.

Okoye flew the Royal Talon toward the summit and then dived into the opening at the top near the metal spire. As the aircraft descended, the mountain opened up into a massive mine. Glowing veins of blue traversed the obsidian walls. The mine stretched down into the Earth for miles. Maglev trains and various drones transported the raw vibranium to different parts of the mine. An underground building with large glass windows had been built near the top of the mountain. The jaws of you and your friends collectively dropped at the sight.

T’Challa chuckled at your wonderment, “This is the home of the Wakandan Design Group; Shuri serves as the lead scientist and designer. Most of the technology you have seen today has been developed by her and her researchers.”

“Looks like Stark’s got some competition,” you said.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Natasha breathed.

“Holy cow,” Bucky said in awe as he took in the sights around him. He was in his element; surrounded by the things that interested him most. It had been a while since you had seen him this excited. It made you smile.

Okoye set the jet down on one of the landing platforms. Your group followed T’Challa into the princess’ laboratory. You felt as if you had stepped onto a sci-fi movie set. Holograms of various designs floated above workspaces. Unfamiliar tech littered the tables about the lab. Dozens of researchers milled about in crisp white coats, talking to one another in isiXhosa. Shuri moved from her place beside her assistants when she noticed your group enter.

“Welcome to the Wakandan Design Group headquarters,” Shuri said as she approached. “Come,” she gestured for you to follow her further into the lab. Bucky glanced around mesmerized by all the new technology. You followed Shuri into the next room.

The room was somewhat small, but a wall of windows offered a view of The Great Mound and the Maglev Train. Various computer screens lined one wall. The dull buzzing whir of computers and various machinery filled the room. In the center stood a glass pod, like those in the Siberian HYDRA facility. Your chest tightened at the sight. Bucky’s body tensed; his jaw ticked. You heard his breath quicken. Instantly, you were at his side. You slid your hand in his own and intertwined your fingers with his. You squeezed his hand in reassurance. Bucky swallowed audibly. You knew it was taking all the self-control he had to not run out of the room. Natasha and Steve flanked both of you once they noticed the pod. Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulder. Natasha gave you a look as if to say, “Are you good?” You gave her a slight nod.

“What’s the pod for?” Natasha asked as Shuri and T’Challa stood next to one of the several monitors.

“I have an idea regarding how to remove the programming,” Shuri started, “but, unfortunately, it will take time and rigorous testing.”

“How much time?” you asked.

“I cannot say for certain how long it will take.”

“You said ‘testing’?” Steve asked as he eyed the computers and the pod.

“Yes,” Shuri said. “In order to safeguard against any brain damage, we will use our most advanced bio-scanners to create a one-to-one digital representation of Sergeant Barnes’ brain.” She gestured to the computers around her. “Any and all tests will be completed numerous times on the digital construct not on physical tissue until we are certain we have the correct algorithm.”

You eyed the pod once more, “That’s a cryo-freeze pod.” You looked from T’Challa to Shuri. “Right?”

T’Challa nodded, “In order to make sure the programming is removed properly, Sergeant Barnes will need to enter cryo-freeze one last time.”

“It is the only way to ensure that the programming is removed safely and completely,” Shuri added.

Your chest tightened once more; your head spun. “But does he have to go under now?” your voice wobbled. You hadn’t considered the possibility of Bucky returning to cryo-freeze. Logically, it made the most sense. With Bucky’s mind calm and unaware, it would take no time to remove the programming once The Design Group created the right program. Still, the thought of him returning to cryo frightened you.

Shuri shrugged slightly, “That depends on Sergeant Barnes.”

You glanced over to Bucky. His silence was deafening. For once, even you weren’t able to discern what he was thinking. His gaze remained fixed on the pod for a moment before turning to Shuri. “I wouldn’t need to be under for the testing phase?” he asked.

Shuri shook her head. “Not unless you wanted to be.”

Bucky nodded and looked back at the pod once more. “Can I have some time to think about it?” He turned to look at you, Steve, and Natasha. “Talk it over?”

T’Challa nodded, “Of course.” He gestured toward the door. “Take the night to think it over. As my mother said earlier, we have prepared rooms for you. Your bags have already been delivered as well”

“I will be available to answer any questions you may have,” Shuri added as your group walked out of the lab and toward the Royal Talon.

Steve nodded to her, “Thank you, princess.” Shuri nodded once before excusing herself to attend to her other duties.

Bucky remained silent the entire ride back to the Citadel. You knew his mind must be racing, a scrambled mess of thoughts and scenarios. He had not let go of your hand since entering the laboratory. You rubbed your thumb over the scars on the back of his hand in an attempt to soothe him. His body had yet to relax. You took a deep breath and let it out through your nose. The conversation over dinner this evening would not be pleasant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> I hope you will forgive me for not updating in a while. 2020 has taken no prisoners, and it seems it saw fit to have shit hit the fan for me all at once. 
> 
> Writing this story has kept me sane (Even if I did take a large break from writing this chapter to write the epilogue for this fic full of the most teeth rotting fluff you will ever read as my life has been nothing but an angst-fest.)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the relationship building with Nat (K/DA was responsible for the K-pop inspiration) and the sparring with Sam. 
> 
> What do you think is going to happen next?
> 
> Don't forget to comment, leave kudos, and share with your friends if you are enjoying the story!
> 
> Thanks for being patient with me and thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning Quote from "I Know Places" by Taylor Swift. 
> 
> (Also also expect many many quotes to be from T Swift's new album evermore. Sorry not sorry.)


	4. Chapter Three

**  
  
  
  
**

**_“I’ve been the archer, I’ve been the prey_ **

**_Who could ever leave me, darling_ **

**_But who could stay..._ **

**_Who could stay?_ **

**_You could stay.”_ **

**  
  
  
  
**

~*~*~*~

**  
  
  
  
The Citadel. Wakanda. September 2016. **

  
  


The four of you gathered in the common area of the massive palace apartment provided by Dowager Queen Ramonda. The apartment contained two suites each with its own sitting area, bedroom, and large bathroom. Each suite connected to a large common space which served as a living room and dining room. The apartment was modern, but there were touches of Wakandan tradition and culture interspersed throughout the rooms. A vase or basket here. A ceremonial mask or weapon there. Brightly colored tapestries hung from the walls. T’Challa had the palace staff serve dinner in your apartment to allow for a private discussion of the information you had been presented with earlier. The food sat on the dining room table undisturbed as you and your friends were lost in thought.

Bucky sat on the edge of a chair hunched over with his elbow resting on his knee. His forefinger and thumb circled one another. Natasha perched lightly on the plush couch next to Steve who flipped through a file detailing Shuri’s ideas regarding the task at hand. Despite the advances in technology, Steve preferred paper briefings instead of those on a tablet or phone. Instead of reading along with Steve, Natasha’s gaze followed your movements. The tempest that raged in your mind made it impossible to sit still; you paced in front of the wall of windows leading to a massive balcony. The sun made its descent in the western sky, filling the room with a warm golden light. Had you not been drowning in your intrusive thoughts, you would have been mesmerized at the beautiful sight.

Although you promised to support Bucky no matter what he decided, the possibility of him returning to cryo-freeze had been the furthest thing from your mind. It changed everything. You did not want Bucky to go back into cryo. Cryo had brought him nothing but pain and misery. The thought of being without him for an unspecified amount of time killed you inside. You had been together for so long; you relied heavily on one another. You weren’t sure what you would do without him for an extended length of time. Was it selfish of you to want him to stay with you until the last possible moment? So many things could go wrong. Was it so awful to want more time with him if anything did?

You glanced over at Bucky for the umpteenth time in the past few minutes. Bucky remained silent since the ride to The Citadel, only speaking to thank the palace staff in short but sincere sentences. His gaze remained unfocused as he pondered the information presented to him by Shuri. You ran your hand through your hair frustrated by the silence and sighed.

“Okay, we said we were going to talk it over,” Natasha sighed, breaking the silence obviously tired of watching you pace back and forth. “But, no one has said a word since we got here.” She looked at each of you in turn. “What’s everyone thinking?”

You looked over to Bucky once more. He didn’t acknowledge Natasha’s question and continued to stare into the void. Natasha nudged Steve, prompting him to say something, anything, to start the difficult conversation that needed to take place. Steve closed the file and placed it on the glass coffee table in front of the sofa. He leaned forward, mimicking Bucky’s posture. “I think this is the best chance we have at getting rid of the programming,” he said to no one in particular. “There is a level of technology and knowledge here that isn’t available anywhere else in the world. Not with Tony, Bruce, Dr. Cho, or even Hank Pym.” He turned to look at Bucky who remained unmoved.

A beat of silence passed before Natasha spoke up again, “I agree.”

You sighed once more, “I think we are all in agreement that this is the best chance we have.” Bucky sat up at the sound of your voice. “The main issue at hand is whether or not Bucky should enter cryo until the deprogramming tool can be developed.” You made eye contact with him. “I know where I stand on that issue. I don’t think it needs to be said...”

“Doll...” Bucky started.

“I know what you’re thinking,” you interrupted. “But, you don’t have to go back into cryo right now. I don’t see the need to. You can wait until Shuri has a better idea of what to do about the trigger words.”

Natasha nodded in agreement, “It’s been four months since your last incident, and you haven’t had another since.”

“And even then, like all the times before, it wasn’t your fault,” Steve added.

“Even so,” Bucky said. “I’ve hurt a lot of people as the Winter Soldier.” He looked at you with sad eyes, remembering the bruises he gave you when you accidentally exposed him to the trigger words almost a year and a half ago. “I don’t want to take the chance of that happening again. I won’t be a danger to anyone if I go under.”

You crossed your arms across your chest, “You’re not a danger to anyone.” 

Bucky raised his eyebrows; he scoffed audibly. “I don’t know where you’ve been the past two years, doll, but I’m pretty sure I’ve tried to kill you at least twice.”

“ _ The Soldier _ has a kill-switch,” you stated. Natasha and Steve looked at you quizzingly. Bucky started to say but you held up your hand to stop him. “The manual we retrieved from the Siberian facility had information on how to use the trigger words, but it also had a shutdown protocol.” You held up one finger. “One trigger word that only works once. Obviously, I can’t tell you what the word is because it will knock you unconscious.”

Natasha and Steve raised their eyebrows, stunned. Bucky frowned, “We don’t know if it’s been used before.” 

“It was only meant to be used in the most dire of circumstances,” you said, crossing the room to sit by his side, “But aside from that, we’ve been careful.” You took his hand in yours, squeezing it. “We will continue to be careful.” He sighed heavily, never taking his eyes off you. You continued on, desperate to convince him. “We’ve destroyed the manual. Zemo has been locked away. HYDRA is all but extinct, and even if whatever is left of them wants to get to you, they wouldn’t know where to start looking.” You tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “For the past two years, we’ve managed to avoid being found...well, for the most part...”

Steve and Natasha nodded in agreement. “And, we can make sure it stays that way,” Natasha finished for you. “You guys aren’t on your own anymore.” A small but sincere smile played across her lips as your eyes cut over to her. You smiled back, grateful to have someone in your corner. Befriending the former KGB operative was difficult for almost everyone, but once you had her loyalty, she would never waiver. You looked to Steve who kept his sharp blue eyes trained on Bucky. You knew Steve would follow along with whatever Bucky decided; after all of these years, his best friend remained his number one priority. In Steve’s mind, he would never be able to truly atone for his cowardice in not following Bucky off the train that fateful day. His continued unquestioning support of all of Bucky’s decisions was one of his many ways of apologizing.

You looked back to Bucky, meeting his steel-blue eyes with your own. “You can do this...” you stated, “We can do this...Together.” You leaned into him, resting your forehead against his. “Stay...please...” you selfishly pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. You didn’t care if Steve or Natasha heard you. Your eyes searched his face as you awaited his answer.

As the sun disappeared behind Mount Bashenga and the warm light faded from the room, Bucky’s eyes softened as he stared at you. His hand cupped your jaw and he kissed you softly. You held your breath, unsure of what his answer would be. As he pulled away, he gave a slight nod, “...Okay, doll.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, giving him a small smile. He returned it, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Natasha breathed a sigh and stood up, “Now that’s out of the way, let’s eat. I’m starving.”

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


**Shuri’s Laboratory. Wakanda. September 2016.**

  
  


Early the following morning, as Shuri’s assistant gently inserted an IV into Bucky’s forearm, the princess explained the procedure. Even though Bucky would not be entering cryo-freeze, the Design Group still needed scans of his brain to create the digital model on which they would test their algorithms.

“In order to gather the information we need, Sergeant Barnes will need to be anesthetized,” she explained. “While we gather the scans, we will also remove most of what is left of his metal prosthetic.” She picked at the dirty duct tape and fraying now gray gauze padding with a slight grimace on her face. “And do away with this barbaric patch job.” She shook her head in disgust. “I could fit you for a new prosthesis,” she offered, “And install something temporary until I can design you a proper arm.”

Bucky shook his head. “Thank you, princess, but, over the past few months, I’ve gotten used to doing things with only one arm.” He looked over to you with his signature smirk. “Plus, I won’t have an excuse for Y/N to do things for me.” You rolled your eyes with an exaggerated albeit playful sigh.

Shuri chuffed, “Your loss.” She moved to the screen at the head of the bed and swiped away schematics for a vibranium prosthesis. “Well, we will at least provide you with a soft-touch cap to smooth everything over.” She pulled up various vital sign monitors and motioned for him to lie back once the tech had finished their final checks of the IV line. You moved to stand next to him taking his hand with a slight squeeze. He squeezed your hand back with a reassuring smile. “Now, this will take time,” Shuri warned, “but, there will be absolutely no pain that I can promise you.”

Bucky nodded and laid his head back on the smooth bed. The vital sign monitors surrounding his head sprang to life, giving reports of his heart rate, respiration rate, pulse oxygenation, blood pressure, and temperature. He turned to look at you once more as the other tech pushed the sedative into his IV. You ran your thumb across his scarred knuckles. “Te iubesc. Voi fi aici când te vei trezi,” you said softly.  _ (“I love you. I will be here when you wake up.”) _

Bucky smiled as his eyes drooped closed, “Ştiu.”  _ (“I know.”)  _ As the drug began to take effect, his breathing slowed and evened out.

Once he was fully asleep, Shuri moved in with her scanners, pulling up a live feed of his brain activity. “This procedure will take several hours,” she said, manipulating the hologram above Bucky’s body. “You, the Captain and Agent Romanoff should go and take in the sights of the city. My brother will be happy to show you anything you wish to see.”

You looked at Bucky’s sleeping form once more. His face was serene, more so than you had ever seen before. Lifting his hand to your lips, you brushed a light kiss across his knuckles. “Thank you, princess,” you said with a slight bow to your head.

The young scientist smiled and turned to the table next to her, picking up a bracelet of shiny black vibranium beads. She handed them over to you. “I will send word to you via these Kimoyo beads once the process is complete,” she said. “Just turn your palm upward to answer the call.”

You nodded as you slipped the bracelet on your right wrist, opposite from Hunter’s Viking arm ring. “You have no idea how much we appreciate everything you’re doing,” you said before you turned to go.

Shuri smiled widely, “It is no trouble; I love a challenge. Now go on and let me get to work fixing your broken white boy.” She shooed you out of her lab. You shook your head with a chuckle as you made your way back to the main lab where Natasha and Steve waited.

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


**Dora Milaje Training Center. Wakanda. September 2016.**

  
  


Okoye and T’Challa’s fiancee, Nakia, accompanied you, Steve, and Natasha visiting various sights around The Golden City as T’Challa had meetings with the Tribal Council all day. You had visited what was left of the Border Tribe to witness their efforts in preserving the White Rhinoceros. You had seen a large group of them on your flight into Wakanda and wanted to know more about them. Nakia informed you of the brief coup led by Erik “Killmonger” Stevens a few months prior. With the head of the Border Tribe’s head of security and led breeder of the White Rhino, W’Kabi, imprisoned for his treachery, the River Tribe, her tribe, offered them assistance regarding the upkeep of the Rhino breeding program and border patrols.

As your group approached a young rhino, Okoye informed you they were trained for combat beginning at a young age, allowing members of the Border Tribe to ride them into battle, outfitted with vibranium armor of course. Despite what you had heard about rhinos growing up, the ones raised by the Border Tribe were gentle and loved affection. You rubbed their snouts as they gently took treats from your hands, careful to avoid you with their large horns as they gently nudged you for seconds. You, Natasha, and Nakia could hardly contain your howls of laughter as a young rhino licked Steve’s face leaving a thick sloppy trail of drool stretching from the collar of his shirt to his hair. Okoye even cracked a small smile, slipping the young rhino an extra treat.

Steve and Natasha wanted to see the Dora Milaje in action. Together you watched the warriors spar with one another using vibranium spears and ring blades. Steve and Natasha asked various questions regarding their techniques and training regimen which Okoye patiently answered, becoming more comfortable with the outsiders as they listened to her intently, hanging on her every word.

Nakia moved to stand next to you. “T’Challa tells me you were a former member of an intelligence agency,” she said.

You nodded, “I was an intelligence analyst for the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division for a few years.”

Nakia balked, “That is quite a mouthful.”

You chuckled, “Most of the time everyone called us S.H.I.E.L.D. One of the founders of the organization was very fond of a certain shield.” You looked over at Steve, remembering the late Director Carter.

Nakia nodded knowingly, “Ah, now I recognize the name. I heard of them a few times while I was out on missions. Even came across some of their agents I think.”

“Missions?”

“I was a War Dog, a field agent with Wakanda’s central intelligence service.”

“So you’re not a Dora?”

Nakia shook her head with a chuckle. “No, I know myself too well; I do not follow others easily. Plus, I believed Wakanda could offer more to the world, but until recently, my country preferred to keep to the shadows. So I used my missions to build a network of contacts and help others when I was able.”

“That’s very noble of you.”

She shrugged, “I was doing what I thought was right.” She turned to face you. “I wanted to thank you for what you did in Berlin, for finding the right man responsible for the bombing of the Accords Summit and King T’Chaka’s death. It has brought T’Challa and his family a great deal of peace.”

“Just doing what I thought was right,” you said using her words. She smiled. You sighed, “No, it was mainly for selfish reasons; I was just trying desperately to protect the person I love.”

“Sergeant Barnes?”

You nodded solemnly, “No one deserves to be a pawn in someone else’s game.”

Nakia nodded in silent agreement. An alert sounded from the beaded bracelet on your wrist. You turned your palm upward as Shuri instructed. A hologram of T’Challa appeared floating above your palm. “Motănel,” you answered.  _ (“little tomcat”). _

T’Challa chuckled lowly, “Good evening, Y/N.” He smiled upon seeing Nakia next to you, “My love.”

Nakia smiled, “My king.”

“I wanted to inform you that Shuri has finished her scans of Sergeant Barnes’ brain. He will wake from the sedation soon.”

You nodded with a smile, “Great, we’ll head to the laboratory immediately.”

“Shuri and I will be awaiting your arrival. Sergeant Barnes will be pleased to see you,” T’Challa said before his image dissolved.

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


**The S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. October 2016.**

  
  


It had been a month since their trip to Wakanda. Shuri promised she would keep them updated on the Design Group’s progress in developing the deprogramming algorithm. So far they had not heard anything from her, but Bucky assumed maybe no news, while not necessarily good news, was a good thing.

Five months after the ratification of The Accords and it seemed the world had found other things to worry about as the news coverage regarding the Avengers and other enhanced persons decreased as the days wore on. Threats continued to plague the people of Earth, especially now as their best defenders were scattered to the winds. After watching the news coverage of another black market shipment of Chitauri weapons exploding and leveling a small village in the Middle East, Steve decided it was time to “fight the good fight.” The others were in agreement. However, Bucky and you remained unsure. Bucky wanted to help, but there were many risks if both of you joined them, especially with his trigger words still active.

“I can’t ask you to help, Buck,” Steve said as he ripped the Avengers logos off his suit, pushing his now long blonde hair out of his eyes. “You’ve done enough just by letting us stay here, and you deserve some peace after all these years.”

“I know; It’s just...I feel guilty and maybe even a bit useless just sitting here while you and the others put your lives on the line,” Bucky said, running a hand through his hair. “I know Y/N feels the same.”

“Y/N can continue to feed us information as we need it,” Steve said, looking up at his friend. “But, I can’t ask her to fight with us. This is a chance for both of you to start over. It would be selfish of me or any of the others to ask you to give that up.”

Bucky sighed and nodded. His gaze was drawn to the window and the view outside. He watched you, Natasha, and Wanda train at the firing range. Wanda practiced throwing small red balls of energy at the targets while you and Natasha practiced with a plethora of weapons. Natasha tweaked your stance every so often, smiling as your accuracy improved. The blossoming friendship between you and the assassin brought a faint smile to Bucky’s face. You had lost your best friend and your sister, and even though you would insist his company was enough, he knew you missed intimate platonic relationships. 

“Captain,” Pietro called from the dining room table where he sat with Sam. “You need to come and see this.”

Bucky and Steve moved behind Pietro as he gestured to the computer screen. “What am I looking at Pietro?” Steve asked.

“Y/N set up a system to alert us if any news outlets were currently reporting on various keywords. It just notified us of multiple news outlets reporting massive breakouts of known HYDRA operatives at several prisons across the world.” Pietro pulled up articles and videos from various news sites.

Bucky’s chest tightened; the familiar tang of copper flooded his mouth. “Son of a bitch...” he murmured.

  
  


“ _ So much for HYDRA being extinct.” _

  
  


“Have they managed to capture any of them?” Steve asked.

“So far, no,” Sam answered, “The thought is that they had outside help.”

Steve shook his head, “You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.” Despite the fear he felt, Bucky tried to suppress a smile. Slowly, Steve was starting to slip back into his old self. Without the formality and the subsequent publicity that came with being a part of the Avengers, the more colorful words in his vocabulary began to infiltrate his daily conversations. At first, it shocked almost everyone to hear the supposed virtuous Steve Rogers, America’s (former) Golden Boy use such language. What they didn’t realize was that Steve was raised by first-generation Irish Americans who had mouths like sailors. Bucky had no doubt swearing was embedded in Steve’s genetic code alongside the super-serum.

The terrace door opened; Bucky turned to see you, Natasha, and Wanda cross the threshold. Wanda’s eyes glowed red as she read the room. “What’s going on?” she asked. The smiles on your and Natasha’s faces faded as you realized something was wrong.

“There has been a massive breakout of HYDRA operatives at multiple prisons; the thinking is that they had some sort of outside help,” Sam said.

“Son of a bitch,” you breathed as you crossed the room to stand next to Bucky. Your presence comforted him; you had always been a balm for one another’s nerves. “Any idea where they would go?” you asked no one in particular.

Steve, Natasha, and Sam looked Bucky’s way as if they expected HYDRA’s former top assassin to be able to remember every hideout and every HYDRA leader. Bucky shook his head, “I know what you’re thinking,” he said holding up his hand in front of him. “I don’t remember much about HYDRA...much less HYDRA as they are now...”

“I don’t think so,” Wanda said curiously, moving to stand in front of him. Her eyes glowed red once more as she stared at him.

“What do you mean, Wanda?” Natasha asked.

“The memories are there,” Wanda said, her glowing red gaze locked on the super-soldier in front of her. “They’re just locked away.”

Bucky shifted uneasily under her intense stare and gritted his teeth. He sucked in a sharp breath, “For good reason.” He felt your hand squeeze his own. He squeezed back.

“Wanda, that’s enough,” you said, perhaps more sharply than you meant to. “Stop...please.”

Wanda’s eyes returned to their normal pale green as she stepped back from the two of you. “Sorry,” she stuttered. Instantly, Pietro appeared at her side, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“No, I think Wanda is on to something,” Natasha said, stepping forward. “If we knew where to begin, it would be easier to locate the escapees and find out who helped them and why.” Bucky sighed internally. He had to admit she had a point, and he had told Steve he wanted to be able to help them in some way. Maybe this was his chance.

You balked at what Natasha was implying; Bucky watched your eyes narrow as you stepped in front of him reflexively. “You are not saying what I think you are saying,” you said tightly.

Natasha looked at Steve. “It could help, Y/N,” he said.

You shook your head violently, “No, absolutely not.”

“Doll...” Bucky started.

“Who’s to say it will even work? What are the risks? What if she triggers the Winter Soldier?”

“Doll-”

“No, I am not going to stand by and watch one of the Wonder Twins take his brain and,” you gestured wildly, “...play...in search-”

“Y/N,” Bucky interrupted, placing his hand on your shoulder. He turned you to face him. Your brow furrowed; your eyes were fearful. “I’m right here, ya know.” You looked down at the floor in embarrassment. Bucky smiled softly at your desire to protect him; he knew he would have felt the same way if the roles were reversed. “I want to help,” he said, more to you than to the others. He caught your gaze and watched as your eyes searched his face before you nodded once reluctantly in agreement.

Bucky looked at Wanda, “How would you go about unlocking my memories?”

Wanda glanced at Steve who nodded. “I would think that as I read your mind it would unlock them one by one,” she said hesitantly, “but there is a possibility that once one is brought to light the rest will follow.”

Bucky nodded, “Then let’s try it.”

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


Bucky sat in an armchair in the living room; he caught your eye where you stood near the back of the room picking at your cuticles. He gave you a reassuring smile. He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing, using one of the breathing techniques you taught him. 

  
  


“ _ In through the nose. 1...2...3...4. Hold it. 1...2...3...4...5...6...7. Out through the mouth. 1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8.” _

  
  


He imagined you leading him through the breathing exercise and felt the tension leave his neck and shoulders then his arms and core and finally his legs. After a few moments, he looked at Wanda, “Okay, I’m ready.”

Wanda moved to stand behind him. “If you need me to stop, just say the word.” Bucky nodded, trying to stay relaxed. She brought up her hands to either side of his head. Tendrils of pulsing red psionic energy flowed from her fingertips gingerly touching his temples. Bucky stiffed slightly; a tingling wash of energy flowed from the crown of his head and down his spine. Whatever Wanda was doing didn’t hurt; it just felt as if he was no longer the only consciousness inside his mind. His eyes fluttered closed at the strange sensation and tried desperately not to fight it even though everything in his body was screaming for him to. 

For a moment, all was quiet until suddenly the memory of his final encounter with Alexander Pierce entered his mind. He saw Pierce’s face as he barked orders. Felt the sting of the slap across his face. The utter confusion regarding the purpose of his mission. The man on the bridge. The pure unadulterated pain of the electricity flowing through his body. The rawness of his throat from his screams. The desperation to hold onto the memory of the man he knew he  _ knew _ from before if there was ever a before.

As quickly as the memory came, others replaced it. Firing a magnetic grenade at an oncoming SUV. Ripping open a car door with his metal arm. Observing a man’s apartment, sniper rifle in hand. Following the gaze of a tall blonde man to determine the exact location of his mission. Three powerful shots. Catching a round projectile thrown his way with ease. The pain of another mind wipe. Shooting a familiar red-headed woman protecting his target in Odessa as she attempted to pull him to safety from a crumpled car. Leaving both of them for dead. Debriefing with his handlers at a rendezvous point in Eastern Europe. The all too familiar pain caused by the Memory Suppression Machine. Riding a motorcycle down a moonlit road. A car on fire. The desperate soft pleas of Marie Stark. The debriefing with his handler at the Siberian Facility. Training HYDRA’s most elite death squad. Their rebellion. The blinding pain of another mind wipe. Ballerinas under the tutelage of a stern Russian woman. Training young girls to kill. Killing a few of them with his own hands under the directive of the leader of the Red Room. The flash of red hair. Natalia. The white-hot lances of pain from electricity as it entered his temples.

Memories came faster; they snowballed and blurred together. The faces of those he killed. The faces of his handlers over the years. Missions in various locations all around the world: Russia, England, The United States, South Korea, Romania, Germany, Iran, and Japan. The torture he suffered at the hands of those in charge of him. The rigorous training, pushing him past his limits even for someone who was enhanced with Zola’s bastardized super-soldier serum. The lack of proper nutrition. Handlers and agents treating him as only a machine, a shell of a man with no feelings of his own. 20 long years of continued resistance to the constant mind wipes, attempts to beat him into submission, and numerous attempts to escape before he finally gave up and accepted his fate. An overwhelming feeling of helplessness. Accepting the harsh truth that no one would be coming for him. His best friend would never come for him. The hope that maybe just maybe if he complied, the pain would stop. What a fool he had been. The pain never stopped. Darkness consumed him, body and soul.

As quickly as they appeared, the memories faded. The feeling of another consciousness slowly withdrew from his mind. He became aware of his own ragged breathing and the feeling of a layer of sweat that covered his forehead. As he opened his eyes again, blinking away unshed tears, he watched Wanda sink heavily into a chair next to him. Her soft eyes brimmed with tears, her eye makeup left faint black streaks down her cheeks. She hiccuped as she drew in deep shuddering breaths. She brought a hand to her mouth to stifle the noise. In a blur of blue, her brother appeared by her side with a glass of water and rubbed her arms to calm her as she shakily sipped the liquid. He murmured words of comfort to try and chase away the horrors she had just lived through Bucky’s eyes.

“Buck,” he heard Steve say softly. He tore his gaze from Wanda and looked into the concerned eyes of his best friend. He had pulled another chair near the one where Bucky sat.

“Steve,” Bucky breathed. As he took in the sight of the room, he noticed you, Natasha and Sam were missing. He looked at Steve confused.

“Sam and Natasha are with her,” he assured.

“Why?” Bucky’s voice croaked; his throat scratched as if he had been screaming. Had he been screaming?

“She tried to tackle Wanda when you started screaming,” Sam said as he reentered the room.

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “It didn’t hurt.” 

“Could have fooled me,” Sam said, a look of understanding passed across his face. The tiny glimpse into the pain and suffering that plagued Bucky’s waking moments offered Sam a new perspective. Bucky was a survivor, just as he had been. He handed Bucky a glass of water, an olive branch of sorts.

Bucky chugged it greedily. “Where is she?”

Steve nodded toward the door, Bucky followed his gaze to the overlook where you and Natasha sparred. You had picked up the habit of venting your frustrations through physical activities, of various sorts, from Bucky. His eyes roved over your flushed skin watching your chest heave in ragged breaths as you and Natasha circled one another. A fierce purpose laced your movements as if every punch and kick would drive away the sadness that came with witnessing such suffering. A pang of guilt speared Bucky’s chest as he observed the aftermath of the pain he had caused you.

“If anyone doubted that she loved you, they certainly don’t now,” Steve said. Bucky swallowed and nodded as he continued to watch the two women train as the sun disappeared behind the mountains. Steve looked at Wanda and Pietro. The young woman’s sobs had subsided; she rested her head on her brother’s shoulder. “Did you get anything Wanda?” he asked.

Wanda slowly raised her head to look at Steve and nodded. “I did. I have names of agents and locations of bases.” Her voice rasped like sandpaper; she cleared her throat. “I will write them down in a moment.”

Steve smiled, turning to Bucky. Bucky’s lips ticked up at the corners. “Thank you for your help, Buck,” Steve said as he clasped his best friend on the shoulder. Bucky nodded and turned to Wanda.

“I’m sorry, Wanda. You shouldn’t have had to see any of that.”

The young woman shook her head. “Occupational hazard,” she quipped half-heartedly with a sad smile.

Bucky breathed a laugh with a slight nod before standing up and making his way outside to comfort the person he loved most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> I kinda feel like this chapter may be a bit scattered, but all parts are necessary. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the reader's time in Wakanda; it's probably one of my favorite settings in all of the MCU, apart from Avengers Tower ('cause let's face it the Tower is superior to the Compound). 
> 
> Please comment, leave kudos or share with others if you are enjoying the story. I have so many fun things planned out for it; so you might wanna strap yourselves in!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning Quote from "The Archer" by Taylor Swift.


	5. Chapter Four

  
  
  
  


“ ** _To silence all the voices in my head_ **

**_I thought it'd go away, it's getting worse instead_ **

**_Wishing that I knew how_ **

**_To calm these nerves but they're only staying loud_ **

**_I fear the worst_ **

**_I fear that someday I'll have to forget your face.”_ **

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


**The S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. October 2016.**

  
  


Your lungs and throat burned as you fiercely sparred with Natasha. Sweat plastered free tendrils of hair to your face. Beads of it rolled down your back and forehead, stinging your eyes. You wiped them away with the back of your hand, unsure if the tears were from the sweat or from the horror you had just witnessed.

  
  


_You knew it was a bad idea from the start, but Bucky wanted desperately to help his friends in some way, any way. So you supported his choice to have Wanda explore his mind in an attempt to find any information about HYDRA that wasn’t in the files you had already gathered and decrypted. At first, everything appeared fine. Bucky’s face twisted in some discomfort, but you expected having someone search your mind for memories was not a pleasant experience. After a few minutes, tears began to slide down his cheeks and his jaw clenched as if he were holding back a scream. His body tensed as he held his breath. His knuckles went white as he gripped the arms of the chair, fingertips digging into the plush padding._

_You took a step forward; Sam grabbed your arm with a shake of his head. “Wait,” he said, holding you back, “He’s not telling her to stop.” You looked from him to Bucky. His face only twisted in more pain as the minutes wore on. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead. And still, he didn’t tell Wanda to stop. A horrifying realization crossed your mind; maybe he was unable to._

_You wretched out of Sam’s grip, making your way towards them. Natasha stepped in front of you. “Move, Nat,” you said icily. Suddenly, Bucky threw his head back against the chair with a guttural cry, not unlike the ones he had made that night at the bank. Every scream pierced your chest like a dagger, twisting with each new explosion of sound. You darted past Natasha with a speed you were unaware you were capable of, slipping out of her reach. If no one was going to tell Wanda to stop, then you would make her._

_However, a blur of blue knocked you backward. Pietro pushed you into a strong pair of arms that wrapped tightly around your waist. “Let me go, Rogers!” you pleaded, struggling in the super-soldier’s vice-like grip. “Stop this! Please!” Your voice cracked as a sob escaped your throat. Tears poured hot down your face; your eyes remained glued to Bucky’s form._

“ _It’s his choice, sweetheart,” Steve whispered calmly; he held you tightly to his chest. “Let him help.”_

_You stilled your movements. You couldn’t be the one to make choices for Bucky; no matter how badly you wished to protect him. He made his choice and must have thought it would be worth it to endure such pain. Your chest heaved with ragged breaths as Bucky continued to scream. “I...I can’t...I can’t be here,” you said, gulping down deep breaths, looking at Sam. “Get me outta here.” Steve nodded to Sam before loosening his grip around your waist, letting you go. Sam placed his hand on the small of your back and led you out on the terrace._

_Natasha followed you and Sam out a few moments later. You had fled to the overlook to escape the sound of Bucky’s heart-wrenching screams. Sam watched you pace back and forth, picking at your cuticles. Sensing what you needed, Natasha picked up some tape and started to wrap her hands. She motioned for you to do the same. “Come on, you know you’ll feel better if you hit something.”_

  
  


You and Natasha sparred for what seemed like hours under Sam’s watchful eye. He had made his way back to the chalet as the sun began to make its descent behind the mountains to the west to see how things were progressing. Never once did the blonde assassin complain or falter. She let you vent all the anger, sadness, and frustration out as the two of you fought one another. When she noticed someone else join you, she raised her hands in a “time out” gesture. You cocked an eyebrow. “Tired already, Romanoff?” you asked breathlessly as you bounced on your toes to keep your heart rate up.

Natasha shook her head as she began to unwrap her hands. She nodded to the person approaching, “I think someone wants to talk to you.” You turned and watched Bucky walk down the path to the overlook. You hung your head with a sigh and a slight nod and began to unwrap your hands as well.

“Not getting off that easy, doll,” Bucky said lightly. You glanced his way as he moved his hand in a circular motion, gesturing for you to re-wrap your hands. You looked back to Natasha, but she had already walked halfway up the path, placing a reassuring hand on Bucky’s shoulder as she passed. Hesitantly, you re-wrapped your hands once more. Bucky circled you before he held up his hand. Positioning your fists as he had taught you, you began to strike at his palm. Both of you had gone through these motions during many training sessions, by now it was muscle memory. You moved in a circle almost as if you were dancing. After a few moments, Bucky spoke, “Sam told me what happened.”

“I figured,” you panted as you jabbed your fist at his outstretched hand twice before switching to a right cross.

“It was my choice,” he said.

You continued to punch at him, quickening your movements. “I know.”

“Wanda didn’t hurt me if that’s what you are worried about.”

You missed his hand completely, falling into him. He caught you easily but didn’t let you go. You placed your hands against his chest, refusing to look at him. “Your physical well-being wasn’t my main concern, James,” you whispered.

Buck sighed and moved his hand to cradle the back of your neck, “I know.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. Both of you stood this way for a moment.

You pulled back slightly, catching his eye. “I know it’s not up to me to make decisions for you; you deserve to be able to make choices on your own.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth ticked upward as he gently rubbed his thumb along your jawline. “But?”

“We’re partners,” you said quietly, “and partners make decisions together.”

Bucky’s steel-blue eyes softened. “We’re partners,” he affirmed.

“Promise we will make big decisions together from now on?” you asked, placing your hand over his own. “Especially ones that will impact us both.”

Bucky sighed with a smile, “Yes, ma’am.”

You returned his smile with a slight nod. He pulled you to him, and your lips met his in a soft gentle kiss. Your hands twined around his neck and threaded through his hair. He pressed his lips firmer against yours; his slight stubble tickled your nose. His tongue slowly swiped over your bottom lip. Your lips parted; Bucky deepened the kiss. His all-consuming kisses were addicting, each one more heavenly than the last. You could kiss this man all day.

Reluctantly, Bucky pulled away. You whined slightly at the loss of contact wanting nothing more than to drown in his kiss once more. Bucky’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “We should head back in. I know there are parts of this property we haven’t christened, but let’s save that for when our five roommates aren’t here.”

You pouted, poking out your lower lip slightly. Bucky shook his head and captured your lips, biting down softly on your lower lip. You sighed as he pulled away once more. “Fine,” you huffed. “But you started something out here, Sarge. You better finish it later tonight.”

Bucky’s warm hand roamed your body, trailing his fingers down every curve and divot. Goosebumps prickled your skin at his feather-light touches. His lips ghosted over yours, teasing a kiss, “Yes, ma’am.”

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


**The S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. November 2016.**

  
  


A few days before Thanksgiving, the recently resurrected HYDRA decided to make themselves known through various bloody conflicts involving several vicious mercenaries and the Latin American drug cartels. The Secret Avengers, as Sam had dubbed the new team, would need all hands on deck for this mission. Meaning for the first time in months, you and Bucky had the chalet to yourselves.

“I know it should feel so amazing to be alone, but it’s almost too quiet,” you mused as you ran your fingers through Bucky’s chestnut strands. The team had left early a few days prior and wouldn’t be back for another couple of days, depending on their success at infiltrating the various bases scattered through Central America. Natasha had been consistently providing you updates on their location just in case anything happened.

Aside from making a quick supply run to prepare for an impending snowstorm and cutting down your own Christmas tree which stood proudly in the corner, decorated with popcorn strands and dried orange and lemon slices, you and Bucky had taken it easy the past few days. Neither of you felt up to making something even remotely related to a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. Catching up on The Great British Bake Off and binging The Ranch and American Crime Story: The People vs. OJ Simpson meant you both rarely left the couch. A collection of pillows, blankets, glasses, cookie tins and chip bags created something resembling a nest.

Bucky lied down with his head in your lap as the credits to one of the year’s top picks for Best Picture at the Academy Awards rolled. “Eh,” he shrugged, “maybe...but you have to admit we’ve had a lot of fun while they’ve been away.” He lightly traced patterns on your knee.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks and a smile spread across your face as you recalled various trysts on the couch, in the kitchen, and on the dining room table. You laughed lightly, “That’s true.”

Bucky hummed as your nails lightly scratched his scalp then sighed looking up at the ceiling, lost in thought. You stilled your movements, “Your wheels are turning.”

“Just thinking,” he murmured; his gaze remained far away.

“About?” you prodded gently.

“The movie and what the main character said to that guy that looked a helluva a lot like Clint.”

“Gonna have to be more specific, Sarge. Louise said a lot of things.”

“When she said, ‘...If you could suddenly see your whole life, start to finish...Would you change things?’ It just got me thinkin’. If we had known what would’ve happened to us, would we have still made the same choices?”

You stayed silent for a moment, pondering his words. “What do you think you would have done?”

Bucky sighed, his gaze fixed upon the wooden beams above. “I might have...but I know if I had made a different choice it would have been going against my nature and values as a person...And...” He turned his gaze to you, bearing his soul. “I’d like to think that if I knew about you and our time together, I would still make the choices I made, no matter how much pain it caused me. Because you’d be waiting for me.”

Your eyes misted over with unshed tears; you stroked his cheek with your knuckle. “I think I would too. Knowing that I would lose Hunter and that I would basically have nothing left and be left to rebuild my life on my own would be difficult. But, over the past few years, this odd, heroic Brady Bunch-like family I’ve gained and being the one to love you makes all of it worth it, I think.”

Bucky smiled and took your hand in his. “After the stuff HYDRA put inside me is gone, what do you think we should do?”

You sighed softly and looked out the window as Bucky’s thumb stroked the back of your hand. Flurries of snow danced in the soft winds, covering the mountainside in a pillowy white blanket of fresh powder. “I think we should try to live as normal of a life as possible, but considering the circumstances, I don’t know if our lives will ever truly be _normal_. It’s not like we can just move back to the US, get jobs, buy a house, etc. Until the world decides otherwise, we can’t just rejoin it like nothing happened.” You shook your head at the thought, looking back to Bucky. “What do you want to do?”

Bucky sighed with a small smile, “I don’t wanna have to fight anymore if I can help it. But, mainly, I just wanna be with you, doll.” He kissed your palm. “Where you go I go.”

You smiled back, “Ditto.”

Bucky sat up and stretched; he glanced outside. “Looks like that snowstorm is here.”

You smiled, “Looks that way.” You wiggled your eyebrow suggestively. “Gonna be a cold night.”

Bucky flashed you his signature smirk as his hand traveled slowly up your thigh. As he leaned in, his lips brushed lightly over yours, “Good thing we know lotsa ways to keep each other warm.”

You smiled slyly, giving him a chaste kiss, “Gotta catch me first.” A confused look passed across Bucky’s face before you jumped off the couch and darted down the hallway to your bedroom. Your chest ticked in anticipation as you heard Bucky’s bare footsteps pound on the hardwood floors. Skidding into the bathroom, you hid behind the door. Bucky’s footsteps slowed as he entered the bedroom; you clamped your hand over your mouth in vain to muffle the sounds of your breathing.

His footfalls wandered around the bedroom for a few moments before seemingly walking down the hallway once more. You dropped your hand from your mouth, slightly confused. Slowly creeping out from behind the bathroom door, you made your way into the bedroom. Just as you stepped over the threshold to the hallway, Bucky’s arm wrapped around your waist and he drew you flush to his chest. You shrieked in surprise, covering your face with your hands as you collapsed into a fit of giggles. A low chuckle rumbled within his chest. “Gotcha,” he said against the shell of your ear. His hand traveled over your oversize shirt and up your torso. The warmth of his touch sending a fire through your veins.

You bit your lip as he lightly squeezed one of your breasts before continuing up to your throat. Your breathing hitched as he squeezed both sides of your neck lightly. A low lewd moan blew past your lips at the gesture. You felt him smile against your ear as he kissed and nipped his way down your neck. This was something new you accidentally discovered during one of your spontaneous “romantic interludes” on the Quinjet. At first, Bucky had apologized profusely, but after reassuring him multiple times that it didn’t hurt and you were even more turned on by it, did he realize that the feeling of being in control once in a while was something he craved. Something he needed. And, you were more than willing to let him do anything he needed to heal.

Spinning you around to face him, Bucky caught your mouth in a fierce kiss. Your mouths moved fervently against one another. Your hands flew to his hair, threading through the soft strands and tugging softly. A low growl sent a lance of pleasure through you that pooled low in your belly. Bucky pulled you backward, his mouth still fighting for dominance with yours as the back of his knees hit the bed, forcing him to sit. You straddled him, lightly grinding your core on the bulge that grew evident through his gray sweatpants. He moaned into your mouth, sending your confidence soaring.

Empowered by his reaction, you attempted to push him back. However, he noticed you trying to take control. Smirking against your mouth, he rolled you over and pinned you against the mattress. “Pinned ya,” he whispered gravelly. You shivered as he stood up, deftly undoing the drawstring on his sweats. They fell to the floor. You hurriedly tugged your own down your legs, discarding them haphazardly off the bed. Anxious to be back in his embrace. Wanting him to take you. Needing him to take you.

Bucky stepped out of his sweatpants and crawled over you once more, pushing you toward the middle of the bed. As he planked over you, you snaked your arms around his neck and attempted to pull him in for another heated kiss. Chuckling, Bucky stopped short and teased a few brushes of his lips against yours. You whined and pouted slightly. He chuckled again, “So needy.” He sat back on his haunches and draped your thighs over his own. Admiring the view, his fingertips pressed small divots in your plush skin as he ran his hand down your thigh toward your sex. You writhed under his touch, desperate for more.

He lightly grazed the pad of his thumb over your soft lace underwear already damp with your arousal. Breathy moans tumbled from your lips as he lightly dragged his thumb back and forth over your clit. You felt beads of sweat form between your breasts and at the nape of your neck. Bucky’s touch set every part of your body aflame. If there was one thing Bucky loved to do in bed, it was teasing you until you practically begged for it. “James,” you pleaded, your voice filled with need, “Please.”

His eyes darkened as he smirked. “Please what?” He rose into a kneeling position, pushing his boxer briefs down his thighs and past the crook of his knees. You eyed his erection, your tongue swiping your bottom lip. You grew wetter as you watched him pump it a few times until it was hard and pulsing, ready to fill your heat. He slowly sat back down, pressing his thumb more firmly against your clit once more. Your eyes squeezed shut as he drew exquisite circles around your sensitive nub; the lace heightening the sensations. You mumbled incoherently; your chest heaving with ragged breaths. “Look at me, doll” he ordered, ceasing his ministrations. The sudden lack of contact forced your eyes open, gazing into his own. His pupils were blown as he took in your form, watching you unravel beneath him. “What do you want?” he asked lowly.

You gulped down a few breaths as he raised your left leg off his thigh, brushing feather-light kisses down the side of your knee and calf. He kept his eyes locked on you. His piercing gaze broke you down. “Take me,” you breathed, “Make me yours.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky murmured against your skin. Throwing your leg over his shoulder, he pushed your panties to the side. Then he sank into you in one swift smooth motion.

With a soft cry, your back arched in pleasure as he entered you. His cock grazed your sweet spot as he drove his hips into yours. The position of your leg allowed him to delve ever more deeply into your folds; you felt every inch of him as he withdrew and filled you over and over. Your moans began to match the rhythm of his thrusts, growing louder as the coil of pleasure tightened deep within your core. Bucky’s chest thrummed with a low growl as he bent over to capture your lips in a fierce kiss, silencing you for a moment.

Hearing the unbidden moans pour from your lips, nearly did him in, but he loved watching you come undone under him. He pulled away, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth as he did so. You wrapped your arms around his neck. Again you locked eyes, his steely blues reflected so many emotions: need, desire, adoration, love.

“Whose are you?” he asked, slowing the pace of his thrusts.

“I am yours,” you moaned, every part of your body tingled as if the pleasure would just carry you away like embers from a fire. “And you are mine.”

“I am yours,” he affirmed, pressing his lips against your hairline. Once again, he picked up the speed of his thrusts. His hips pounded against yours with wet smacks. His breath blew hot against your skin.

“Oh gods, James,” you mewled, curling into him. You pressed your forehead against his shoulder. “Harder...harder...Oh!...Don’t stop...don’t stop...” The last word died on your tongue with a whimper as the coil in your belly snapped. With a cry, your cunt clenched deliciously around his thick cock as if to hold him in as long as possible. You felt your body relax as Bucky continued to thrust into you. In a state of pure bliss, you were free to watch your favorite part.

His movements became erratic as his brow furrowed, as he struggled to extend the pleasure as long as he possibly could. He reveled in the feeling of your cunt wrapping around him. After a few more deep thrusts, his jaw fell open slightly as he tilted his head back. “Oh, doll,” he moaned, “So perfect...made for me.” With a loud groan ripping from his chest, he spilled himself into you. The feeling of him finishing inside you drove you wild; the thought that only you could make him feel this way made you giddy. A smug smile spread across your lips.

His thrusts slowed as he came down from his orgasm. Once more, he sat back on his haunches and lowered your leg off his shoulder. The muscles burned slightly; you would be sore tomorrow, deliciously sore.

He rolled over and pulled you halfway on top of him. Pulling the covers over your bodies, you settled into his side as he pulled up his underwear. You traced haphazard designs on his chest as he pressed a kiss against your temple. Coming down to earth, your breathing evened out, the urge to fall asleep grew stronger.

Bucky sighed contentedly. “So...” he said softly, his hand trailed lightly through your hair “...Do you want to make a baby?”

A warm feeling spread through you causing you to smile; you lifted your head to look at him. His eyes sparkled with hope as they awaited your answer. “With you?,” you said, “Absolutely.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned, breathing a laugh. You returned his smile with a nod, cupping his face. Your lips met in a gentle loving kiss, setting the future in motion. You both fell asleep facing one another, foreheads touching and smiles on your faces.

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


**Joint Counter Terrorist Centre. Berlin, Germany.**

  
  


_The UN-appointed psychiatrist asked him numerous irrelevant questions about his demographic history. Bucky answered all questions honestly, without much enthusiasm. Exhaustion threatened to overtake him. He had been without much sleep for the past 72 hours._

“ _Tell me, Bucky. You’ve seen a great deal, haven’t you?” The doctor asked, eyeing the tablet in front of him as an alert dinged from it._

_Bucky swallowed thickly, trying not to roll his eyes. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” he rasped._

_Eyes trained on the tablet, the doctor continued his line of questioning, “You fear that...if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop.” He smiled wickedly, taking off his glasses. He finally looked Bucky in the eye. Bucky tensed; alarm bells rang in his head. Something wasn’t right. “Don’t worry...” he chuckled lowly, “We only have to talk about one.”_

_The facility’s power suddenly blinked out; emergency lights illuminated the room in a red and blue pulsing glow. The doctor stood up and moved to the other side of the cell, grabbing someone by the arm; he wretched them in front of the prison pod. Slamming the figure down in a chair, he restrained them. Bucky’s eyes widened in shock as the doctor stepped back, revealing the person in the chair._

  
  


“Y/N?”

  
  


_Your eyes widened in fear as you struggled against the bonds, trying to call his name, but duct tape had been pressed tightly over your mouth._

“ _What the hell is this?!” Bucky said icily. “Let her go. She has nothing to do with this.”_

“ _On the contrary,” the doctor stated, gripping a handful of your hair he yanked your head back. A muffled yelp tumbled from your lips. You winced in pain; your eyes squeezed shut. “She has everything to do with this.” He roughly pushed your head back down. Bucky thrashed against his restraints. Despite the power loss, the magnetic locks had not released. Emergency generators must have fed power to the prison pods despite the outage._

_The doctor dug through his messenger bag and pulled out a worn red leather manual embossed with a black star. “Why don’t we discuss your home? Not Romania, Austria, or Missouri. Certainly, not Brooklyn, no.” He flipped the book open. “I mean your real home.” Bucky’s mouth went dry; all of the breath had been stolen from his lungs._ ”

  
  


“No, no, no.”

  
  


_Raising his flashlight, the doctor sauntered over to you once more. Roughly, tearing the tape from your mouth. You winced before spitting in his face. Bucky watched helplessly as the doctor backhanded you across the face, splitting your cheek open. Your mouth fell open in a loud gasp of pain. You shook your head as if to clear the daze he caused. Bucky struggled once more against the magnetic vice that held his metal arm in place._

“ _Touch her again and I’ll kill you,” Bucky sneered, his voice dripped with venom._

“ _No, Bucky, I’m afraid that you will be killing her, not me. Then you are going to tell me what I want to know.”_

“ _Wha-”_

“ **_Желание_ ** _.” (“Longing.”)_

_The doctor barked the first trigger word; Bucky stiffened. “_ **_NO!_ ** _” you screamed._

“ ** _Ржавый.”_** _(“Rusted.”)_

_Bucky threw his head back against his seat. The metal arm HYDRA had given him trembled and the machinery whirred menacingly as if readying itself for combat. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the doctor’s voice._

“ **_Семнадцать.”_ ** _(“Seventeen.”)_

“ ** _STOP!_** _” You struggled against your restraints; you knew what was coming. “_ ** _DON’T!_** **_PLEASE!_** _”_

“ ** _Рассвет.”_** _(“Daybreak.”)_

_Bucky knew if the doctor continued to recite the trigger words, there would be no stopping himself from hurting you, from killing you. Bucky felt a scream leave from his lips, but he didn’t hear it. With a sudden jerk, he ripped free of his restraints. Desperate to get to you._

“ ** _Печь.”_** _(“Furnace.”)_

_Bucky hesitated in his movements as each word was recited. “_ **_JAMES!_ ** _Don’t pay attention to him! Look at me!” you exclaimed, desperation laced your voice as well as fear._

“ ** _Девять.”_** _(“Nine.”)_

_Bucky locked eyes with you as he punched the door. He had to get out. He had to get to you before it was too late. “You are stronger than him! Than the words! You can fight this!” Bucky watched the glimmer of tears pour down your cheeks. You ceased struggling against your bonds, knowing it was useless._

“ ** _Добросердечный.”_** _(“Benign.”)_

“ _Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. We live deep in the mountains with our family: Steve, Nat, Sam, Wanda, and Pietro. We are fugitives, but that’s okay. We have each other. We take care of each other.” You said, your voice breaking. Bucky continued to punch the door with all his might._

“ **_Возвращение на родину.”_ ** _(“Homecoming.”)_

_With every word said, Bucky felt parts of him slip away. “I love you, James,” you said softly, barely audible. Bucky felt the door move slightly._

“ ** _Один.”_** _(“One.”)_

“ _Remember that I love you.” One more punch. The glass door of the pod gave way, skittering across the concrete floor. Bucky stumbled out and fell to his knees. His consciousness faded to the back of his mind, once again locked away._

“ **_Товарный вагон.”_ ** _(“Freight Car.”)_

_The Soldier’s mind went mind blank. All emotion, all feeling gone. He didn’t recognize the woman who sat in front of him. His chest heaved with ragged breaths as he stood up._

_Slowly the doctor stepped in front of the sniveling woman to stand before him, “Солдат?” (“Soldier?”) he asked._

_The Soldier looked to the doctor, his mouth resting in a hard frown. “Я готов отвечать.” (“Ready to comply.”)_

_A wicked smile spread across his new handler’s face. He nodded to the woman behind him. “Eliminate her.”_

_The Soldier gave him a brisk nod and stepped around him, toward the woman. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She stared at him, head held high, with a steely resolve, unafraid. A sadness lingered behind her eyes._

“ _James,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “James, I love you.”_

_The Soldier remained stoic, unfazed by her sentiments._

_Her eyes watched him as he circled behind her like a tiger does its prey._

“ _I love you.”_

_His metal hand wrapped around her throat; he felt the vibrations of the shaky breaths she drew in, trying to swallow her fear. Her pulse raced._

“ _I love you.”_

_The Soldier squeezed down. Her last sentence died on her lips as he caught off her airway._

  
  


Suddenly, the setting shifted. No longer was The Soldier in a concrete cell, but in a large plush bed, half-naked. He straddled the woman. His metal arm was missing; instead, his flesh hand wrapped around her throat. She clawed at his wrist, her eyes wide. Her lips tinted blue. He continued to squeeze down, harder this time. He had a mission to complete.

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


**The S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. November 2016.**

  
  


Natasha never thought she’d be happier to see snow in her whole life. Growing up in Russia, one could expect at least one major snowstorm per winter and a biting cold that permeated even the most well-insulated buildings. She had been all too willing to leave the harsh Russian winters behind when she defected to the United States. But after almost a full week traipsing around the tropical humid jungles of Central America, the welcome sight of fresh white powder and smoke flowing from the chalet’s chimney caused her to almost leap for joy.

Steve landed the Quinjet effortlessly, despite the weather, and soon the exhausted team slogged through the knee-deep snow toward their home. Natasha looked forward to washing away the dirt and grime of the jungle before cozying up to Steve in one of his sweaters in front of the fire with a finger or two of Bucky’s whiskey, allowing the crackle and pop of the dry logs to lull her into a well-earned deep and restful sleep.

However, as Steve opened the terrace door, he stopped short and cocked his head to the side, listening intently. He held up his fist, signaling them to stop. Natasha ignited her Widow Bites on high alert. The shower would have to wait.

“What is it, Cap?” Sam asked lowly, pressing the side of his goggles, activating his heads up display.

Natasha watched as Steve’s eyes went wide before he dashed down the hallway to the master bedroom that you and Bucky shared. A blur of blue followed him, overtaking him easily. Natasha heard the door burst open with a loud crack of splintering wood as she, Sam, and Wanda rounded the corner. Sounds of an initial heavy thwack and an ensuing struggle echoed down the hallway.

As they entered the room, Natasha spied you sitting up, clutching at your throat. You gulped down deep rasping breaths as Steve and Pietro wrestled with Bucky in the corner of the room.

Without hesitation, Natasha deactivated her Widow Bites and ran to you. “Hey, hey, hey,” she soothed as you clamored out of bed and into her arms, “I got you! I got you!” You looked around wildly, your lips and cheeks still a faint blue as the color slowly returned to your skin. “Are you hurt?” She checked over your body with a cursory glance. You stood frozen, intently watching the ongoing struggle in the corner of the room. Natasha smoothed your hair back. “Y/N, what happened?”

“I...we...he...” you stuttered hoarsely. Your breathing quickened. Natasha locked eyes with you; the fear behind your eyes told her everything she needed to know.

“The kill switch, Y/N,” Natasha said hastily, glancing toward the struggle happening by the windows. Pietro whirred around knocking The Winter Soldier back toward Steve whenever he slipped out of his grasp. Sam stood between them and the bed; guns drawn and at the ready. Wanda stood by the door; her eyes glowed red while balls of red energy flickered at her fingertips. “What’s the trigger word?”

You swallowed roughly, before answering. “Sputnik,” you whispered roughly, your voice like sandpaper.

Natasha nodded once in understanding. “Sam!” she called out. “Stay with her.”

“Copy that,” Sam answered, waiting to lower his weapons after Natasha passed him. He backed up toward you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as your knees threatened to buckle under you.

Igniting her Widow Bites once more, Natasha joined the fray, fighting The Soldier back into Steve’s grasp once more. Once Steve had him pinned to the ground in a headlock, Natasha leaned in. “Sputnik,” she said into The Soldier’s ear, allowing her Russian accent to drip heavily off her voice. The team waited with bated breath.

The Winter Soldier went still for a moment before thrashing once more, muttering curses in Russian. He locked eyes with you. His steel-blues hardened with a coldness and rage Natasha had never seen before.

“It didn’t work,” you breathed, clutching Sam’s arm. Your gaze remained locked on The Soldier.

“What’s Plan B?!” Sam shouted, pushing you behind him, readying his guns once more.

“Wanda!” Natasha yelled, “Can you put him to sleep?!”

“I think so,” Wanda said. Suddenly, Pietro appeared at her side. Scooping her up in his arms, he disappeared in a blur of blue, depositing his twin behind The Winter Soldier.

Wisps of red energy swirled violently around The Soldier’s head. His lips curled into a sneer as he attempted to escape Steve’s grip once more. A roar ripped from his chest as the ring of red psionic energy pulsed around his head. Wanda’s face twisted in concentration. All at once, The Soldier’s head lolled to the side as he fell unconscious.

No one moved.

No one breathed.

Natasha stood by Steve’s side, breathing heavily from the exertion. Coming home to another fight had not been what she had in mind. However, had they arrived any later you’d be dead, and possibly they would be too if The Soldier had found a weapon. Slowly, Wanda withdrew the red energy from around Bucky’s head; beads of sweat accumulated on her forehead. She staggered back; Pietro caught her before she fell and placed her on the edge of the bed. She rested her head heavily in her hands, rubbing her temples. Sam stood protectively in front of you. Ready to defend you should The Soldier reappear. Steve loosened his grip little by little and laid Bucky on the ground once he was certain he was completely out.

“Pietro, go grab the duct tape,” Steve ordered. The twin was off in a flash of blue. “Sam, help me sit him up. He may be out, but we don’t know who he’ll be when he wakes up.” Pietro returned with the rolls of duct tape, you had kept stashed away. Quickly, the three men set about restraining Bucky to the desk chair. “Natasha, get Y/N and Wanda out of here; take them to our room,” Steve said.

Natasha nodded, deactivating her Widow Bites. She moved toward Wanda and held out her hand. “Come on, Wan.” Shakily, Wanda took the assassin's outstretched hand. Natasha wrapped her arm around the young woman’s waist, helping her over to you.

You stood on the other side of the bed, rooted to the spot. Your hand rested at your throat as you watched your friends restrain the man you loved. Natasha moved into your line of vision. “Y/N,” she said softly, “There is nothing we can do here right now.” You tore your eyes from Bucky’s form and looked at her for a moment before nodding. You moved to Wanda’s opposite side as her knees buckled, helping Natasha carry the exhausted woman to the other room.

Crossing to the other side of the chalet, Natasha led you and Wanda to her and Steve’s shared bedroom. Once you had laid Wanda on the bed, Natasha locked the door and placed a chair under the doorknob, just as a precaution.

Natasha turned back to see you standing by the bed, hand trailing along your throat again. The haunted look in your eyes saddened her. She took your hand and led you to the window seat. You followed her without resistance. Keeping a hold of your hand, both of you sat down. She squeezed your hand, “Y/N, what happened exactly?” she asked.

You inhaled a shaky breath, finally looking her in the eye. Tells welled, threatening to spill over. “I don’t know, Nat. Nothing was out of the ordinary when we went to bed,” you rasped hoarsely; your voice cracked. You cleared your throat, wincing. “He was normal. He was Bucky.” You looked down shaking your head.

“So nothing triggered him? Nothing that played? Nothing he read?” Natasha asked. She needed to figure out what caused Bucky to just slip into The Winter Soldier programming without a trigger.

You shook your head, biting your lip. “No, I woke up and he was on top of me, trying to...” you swallowed hard, “I didn’t have any time to react.” Natasha squeezed your hand once more. “Nothing happened that I know of. I don’t think he got out of bed at any point; I would have felt him leave. Either way, he doesn’t look over The Winter Soldier files anymore; it’s too painful for him.”

Natasha nodded solemnly with a slight frown. This development was unexpected; it changed everything. If Bucky could switch to the Winter Soldier with no obvious trigger, he was a danger to himself and the whole team. Wanda had been able to bring him down, but judging by her current state, doing so drained her of all her energy.

You caught onto her vein of thinking, “What are we going to do, Nat?” you asked, your voice thick as the tears finally made their way down your face.

Natasha shook her head, “We will figure it out.” You nodded and hung your head once more. Your shoulders shook in silent sobs. Natasha pulled you to her in an embrace, resting your head against her shoulder. “We’ll figure it out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES
> 
> A little holiday happy for you! We've got it all covered in this chapter, some fluff, some smut, and some whump!
> 
> Do we like Natasha's POV? Yeah? Or nah? Do we like any other character POVs other than Y/N and Bucky?
> 
> I hope you have a wonderfully lovely holiday season and a happy new year! May 2021 be kinder to all of us!
> 
> As always, please comment, leave kudos, and share with others if you like the story!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning Quote from "Even God Has a Hell" by Like Moths to Flames


	6. Chapter Five

**_"You're caught in a cycle_ **

**_You'll never get out_ **

**_Afraid of your shadow_ **

**_And living in doubt_ **

**_But this isn't over_ **

**_It's only begun_ **

**_And there is no honor_ **

**_In giving it all up.”_ **

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


**The S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. November 2016.**

Bucky’s eyes fluttered open, the chill in the air woke him. You might have kicked off the blankets in the middle of the night as you tended to do sometimes. You loved to bundle up in the blankets and cuddle. Bucky was all too happy to hold you and be held after being deprived of human contact for years. But, once you got too warm, the covers came off. He blinked a few times to clear his vision. Observing his surroundings, he noticed the sun was rising. Bright clear rays of light peeked over the mountain tops. Soon the newly fallen snow would sparkle like diamonds. Bucky knew you would want to see this; winter sunrises were one of your favorite sights.

He attempted to turn to you but found himself unable to move his body. He glanced down, noticing for the first time, he was not in bed but strapped to the small desk chair. Duct tape encircled his arm, torso, and ankles, binding him to the back and legs of the chair. A feeling of dread washed over him. His heart sank as he surveyed the room. The bedcovers were thrown from the bed which laid empty. Several small pieces of furniture and décor littered the floor as if a struggle had taken place. The door to the bedroom had been kicked in. It rested in several pieces on the floor. A figure leaned against the splintered door frame, their arms crossed over their chest. They watched him intently.

Bucky swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He became aware of a throbbing headache, behind his eyes. His mouth twisted in a grimace as he realized what must have happened. Natasha strode over to him, her fingertips grazing her gun nestled in her thigh holster. She spoke in rapid Russian sentences. Bucky shook his head. “Nat, you know I don’t like speaking Russian anymore, much less hear it,” he croaked.

A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth, “Good...it’s you. Nice to know Wanda succeeded in her attempt at psionic cognitive recalibration.” Natasha surveyed the room with a cursory glance. “The Other Guy made quite a mess,” her eyes fell on the shattered door, “Well, the door was Pietro’s fault.” She flipped open the small knife she kept tucked in her boot and set to work on cutting Bucky’s bonds.

Bucky hesitated to ask the question he was pretty certain he knew the answer to as he rubbed his eyes. “It happened again didn’t it?” Natasha nodded solemnly, cutting the last bit of the duct tape away before standing up once more. Bucky hung his head in shame and nodded slightly in resignation. “Y/N?”

Natasha sighed through her nose, “If we hadn’t made it back when we did, she’d be dead...and you’d be long gone.”

Bucky inhaled a sharp breath. Once again he had tried to kill the woman he loved. He knew his actions as The Winter Soldier weren’t his fault, but, as he mirrored Clint’s words to Steve on the flight from Berlin to Siberia, he still did them. He nodded once, before looking Natasha in the eye once more, “Can I see her?”

Natasha’s eyes softened. “She fell asleep right before I took my turn to watch you,” she said. “She’s been up all night worried about you.”

Bucky felt a slight smile tug at the corners of his lips, “Y/N is always more worried about others, never herself.” His smile faded, “I hurt her again didn’t I?”

Natasha nodded sadly once more, “You know she would say this wasn’t your fault.”

Bucky looked at the window at the sun’s slow ascent into the sky. “...I know.”

“What happened?” Natasha sat on the edge of the bed, her elbows resting on her knees as she leaned forward. “Y/N said she woke up and you had switched, but she didn’t know how.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed as he tried to remember. Images and moments of last night flashed through his mind. He remembered watching the movie...talking about the past...making love to you...watching you come undone under him...asking you for a baby...and falling asleep in your arms. He didn’t remember getting up at all during the night. He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. Then it hit him.

“I had a dream...” he whispered. His thumb and forefinger circled one another, trying to ease the tension in his chest.

Natasha cocked her head to the side, “A dream?” she asked. “What do you mean?”

Bucky tried to recall the details of last night’s nightmare. “I was back in Berlin at the JCTC facility, Zemo was interrogating me. Everything played out pretty much like I remember up until the point when the lights went out. He had Y/N seated in front of me. Made her watch as he said the trigger words...then he ordered me to kill her...” Bucky sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t remember anything after that until I woke up just now.”

Natasha nodded, clasping her hands together. She was silent for a moment. “This changes things,” she said quietly.

Bucky looked out the window once more, “I suppose it does.”

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


You awoke to a thin stream of light falling across your face. Blinking blearily, you slowly sat up, confused for a moment by your surroundings. A pair of Widow’s Bites bracers and a disassembled Glock had been tossed onto the nightstand next to you. A helmet embossed with an “A” sat on the dresser next to a few sketchbooks and colored pencils. The bedclothes were tucked in tight and smooth in compliance with Army regulations. You must have fallen asleep in Natasha and Steve’s room.

“Good morning, sunshine,” a smooth voice sounded from the window seat. You turned to see Sam sitting with his ankle resting across his knee.

“Sam...” you rasped, wincing at the strain on your bruised throat, “What time is it?”

“Almost noon,” he replied as he sat up from his relaxed position, cricking his neck.

“Shit,” you rubbed the back of your neck and swung your legs over the side of the bed. “Why did you let me sleep?”

“After the night you had, I think you deserve a few Z’s”

“I’m not the one who spent a week in the jungle,” you chuffed. You eyed him carefully. He looked sleep deprived; the dark circles under his eyes indicated how tired he truly was. You couldn’t imagine fighting tooth and nail in the jungle for almost a week and then coming to another fight, another danger. Home was where one was supposed to be the safest, not another battlefield. “Seriously, have you gotten any sleep since you got home?”

Sam shook his head, “I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to.” He sat forward with his elbows on his knees.

You nodded in understanding, “Is he okay? Is he awake?”

Sam searched your face with a sigh, “Skywalker’s awake.”

You let loose the breath you had been holding in relief, “And Wanda?”

“Wanda neutralized The Other Guy, but she’s been asleep ever since. It took a lot out of her...Pietro is looking after her.”

A few beats of silence passed between the two of you before Sam spoke again, “He’s been asking for you.”

You nodded, running your hand through your hair before standing up, “Right.” Sam stood up as you made your way out of the room, following you out.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said, catching your arm.

You stopped in the doorway. Your eyes darted from his hand then back to his face, “Let go, Sam.”

“Seriously, Y/N.”

“Seriously, Sam.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m not going to get hurt. Bucky would never hurt me.” Sam’s gaze flicked down to what you knew to be purple and blue bruises in the shape of fingers that wrapped around your throat. His eyes found yours once more in a doubtful stare. “That wasn’t Bucky last night; you know that.”

“But-”

“I appreciate your concern; I really do. But, it’s not like seeing me will reactivate the programming. That’s not how it works.”

“He woke up out of a dead sleep as The Winter Soldier. Everything we thought we knew about his conditioning has gone completely out the window.”

“Conditioning is a lengthy process requiring hours of repeated tasks and stimuli, Sam. Last time I checked, I wasn’t alive during The Cold War to be a part of that process.”

“It’s still risky.”

“I know.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Sam exasperated, keeping his chocolate brown eyes on yours.

Your eyes hardened as you stared him down. “Sam, if you don’t let go of my arm within the next three seconds, I will make sure your EXO-7 Suit is grounded for the next three months.”

“Y/N-”

“Stand down, Wilson.” Natasha said as she appeared in the hallway, “it’s fine.” Sam’s mouth settled into a hard line but he dropped his hold on your arm. “Steve will be there.” You opened your mouth to protest. “Just in case, Y/N, until we are sure The Winter Soldier isn’t going to come back. But I don’t think anything will happen.”

“Is he ready now?” you asked. Natasha nodded and gestured down the hallway. “Thanks,” you said walking into the living room with Natasha and Sam following close behind.

The trek back to your room seemed longer than normal. The pit in your stomach widened and your chest constricted. Why were you nervous? It was just Bucky. The Soldier wouldn’t make an appearance without a trigger.

  
  


“ _But what if, in some way, I have become the trigger?”_

  
  


But that couldn’t be possible...Could it?

As you turned down the hallway leading to the master bedroom, you fought to keep your hands relaxed at your sides, trying to tamp down the nervousness you felt churning in your gut. The Soldier wasn’t Bucky. The Soldier wasn’t the man you loved. Bucky didn’t attack you. The monster wearing his face did. Still, your hand hovered over the doorknob, hesitant to open it. You vaguely remembered the door being shattered by Pietro last night before he knocked The Soldier off of you, freeing you from his grasp. You took a deep breath to steel yourself. Despite your unease, you couldn’t show it on your face. With Bucky, actions always spoke louder than words. With a newfound resolve, you turned the knob and opened the door.

Steve and Bucky stood facing the wall of windows, speaking in hushed tones. The room had been straightened up. Steve turned his head as he heard the door open. “Hey, sweetheart,” he smiled softly, turning to face you fully with his hands on his hips. “Sleep well?”

Steve’s calm demeanor eased the tightness in your chest. “I did; I am assuming you haven’t slept since you got home either.” You eased the door shut behind you, leaving Natasha and Sam out in the hallway. Bucky stayed stock still, continuing to face the window. You noticed his shoulders tense at the sound of your voice.

“Super-soldier serum,” Steve waved off your concern. You rolled your eyes with a breath of a laugh. He turned to Bucky, “Ya ready, Buck?”

Bucky breathed a heavy sigh through his nose, before turning to face you. The haggard expression on his face saddened you. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the bruises on your neck. His lips turned down in a slight frown before returning to a neutral expression. You gave him a soft smile but stayed near the door, waiting for Steve’s okay before you approached the pair.

“Hey, Sarge,” you said, trying to disguise the wariness in your voice, your heartbreak.

He stared at you for a moment longer before his shoulders relaxed. The Soldier would not be making another impromptu appearance. The corner of his mouth ticked upward in a sad smile. “I’m sorry, doll...”

You breathed a small sigh of relief and looked to Steve for confirmation. He nodded slightly. You slowly made your way across the room. “It’s not your fault.” Bucky sighed and looked at the floor. As you stood in front of him, your hand cupped his jaw and drew his gaze upward. “I don’t blame you in the slightest.” His eyes fluttered shut as if his past actions made him unworthy to meet your gaze. But, you felt the tension leave his body at your touch. You stayed this way for a few moments before you saw Steve make his way toward the door out of the corner of your eye.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said as he opened the door.

“Thank you, Steve,” you said, your eyes remained on Bucky.

“You’re welcome, Y/N,” he replied as the hastily repaired door shut with a quiet click.

After a few more moments of silence, you slid your other hand into Bucky’s own, gripping it tighter when he tried to pull away. Interlacing his fingers with yours, you squeezed his hand in reassurance. “Are you alright?” you asked.

Bucky sighed heavily, “You seriously have to ask that question?” His eyes opened but he would not meet your gaze.

“Unlike Wanda, I can’t read minds,” you said, with a small smile.

Bucky snorted, “Well, I definitely don’t think I’m well.” He stepped away from you, but still held your hand. “I’m terrified. I’m ashamed.” You opened your mouth to say something, but Bucky continued to speak. “And don’t say it wasn’t my fault. I know that, but it doesn’t change the fact that I almost killed you...again.” He let his hand slip out of your grasp as he stepped toward the window. “So, no, Y/N, no, I’m not alright.”

You crossed your arms across your chest, looking at the floor unsure of what to say. Bucky sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair pushing it back. “I’m going back to Wakanda,” he stated after a moment.

You jerked your head up in response. “What?!”

“I’m going to go back under. I’ve already notified T’Challa and Shuri.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Once again, he had made a decision that affected you both without you. The nervousness you felt in Wakanda came rushing back.

“It’s not safe for me to be here, doll,” Bucky said, turning back to look at you finally meeting your eye. Sadness flooded his features.

“Last night...last night was a fluke,” you stuttered, shaking your head in disbelief. “There was no way we could have known that could even happen. It-”

“That’s exactly the point,” he sighed, “there is so much we don’t know. We’ve been arrogant...reckless to think that we-”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have let Wanda loose in your head,” you said. Your voice rose an octave at the thought of losing Bucky to cryo-sleep, “there is no telling what she unearthed or triggered when she searched through your memories. I told you it-”

“That was weeks ago,” Bucky said exasperatedly, “This isn’t Wanda’s fault.”

“I thought we talked about this. You don’t have to go back into cryo!” you shouted, the panic rising within you.

“I’m not safe!” Bucky matched your volume. Anger laced his tone.

“We can figure out how to deal with it!” You heard the blood pounding in your ears. He couldn’t leave; he couldn’t just give up. You had come so far.

“I’m a danger to you and everyone else!”

“ **I DON’T CARE!!** ” you shrieked, ignoring the pain it caused your bruised throat.

Bucky took a step back, “Y/N-”

You shook your head voraciously as you crossed the distance between the two of you. You threw your arms around his neck, clutching him tightly to you. Your throat and eyes burned with tears as you buried your face into his shoulder. “You can’t,” you rasped, “You can’t go...I can’t...I won’t...” You sniffed loudly trying to swallow your sobs.

His arm wrapped around your waist, holding you just as tightly. “It’s what’s best,” he murmured, nuzzling into your neck.

“We’re partners, James,” you whispered. “We promised we would make decisions like this together.”

“This is the best thing,” he repeated, pulling back to meet your eye, “for everybody.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your face.

You leaned into his touch, melting into the warmth of his hand. “I disagree,” you said simply.

Bucky huffed with a small smile peeking at the corner of his mouth, “I don’t see any other option. The kill switch didn’t work. Wanda managed to get me out of it this time, but she may not be able to next time.”

“ _If_ there is a next time,” you said.

“It’s not something I want to chance.” Bucky searched your face, silently begging you to see things his way. “I told you before, I can’t lose you.”

“And I can’t lose you either!” you stated firmly. “What if I lose you to this process? What am I supposed to do if you don’t survive?” You tried to pull away.

“Doll...” Bucky held you firmly to him.

“Wakanda is technologically advanced and Shuri is probably _the_ smartest human being on the planet...but...brains are fickle things,” you placed your hands on his chest and looked down. “What if something goes wrong? Is it selfish of me to want the most time with you that I can get just in case something does?”

“Nothing’s gonna happ-”

“Don’t...don’t go anywhere I can’t follow,” you pleaded softly, “We can take precautions. The others will help us. Just please...please don’t go...” Your eyes met his once more. Bucky stood silent. His eyes filled with resignation and sadness. His thumb stroked your cheek for a moment; you held your breath in anticipation of his response.

He sighed raggedly, “Okay.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer. He kissed your forehead. “I’ll stay.”

You let out the breath you had been holding. The tension left your body as you melted into his embrace. You and Bucky could do this. The Soldier would not get the best of you.

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  


Bucky quietly slipped out from underneath the covers, careful not to wake you. Both of you had gone to bed a few hours ago. And while you slept peacefully snuggled into his side, the fear of once again becoming The Winter Soldier kept him awake. He tugged on some sweatpants and a hoodie. He needed to think and he couldn’t do that in bed with you. Before putting his hand on the knob, he turned back to the bed. Moonlight flooded the room and illuminated your sleeping form in a soft silvery glow. Your lips rested in a serene smile. As if the events from the night prior had never happened. The amount of faith you had in him, the amount of trust you placed in him baffled him.

You shifted positions and as you did so the covers pulled away from your neck, exposing the deep blue and purple bruises at your throat. Bruises in the shape of his fingers. He had always hated his metal prosthesis, so when Tony’s arc reactor blew it apart, Bucky felt relieved that it would never harm anyone ever again. He never dreamed that his hand, the one made of his own flesh and blood, would be capable of such harm, much less to a person he loved so deeply. He flexed his fingers in disgust before quietly turning the knob and padding into the living room.

Sitting on the sofa, Steve mindlessly sketched Natasha’s profile by the flickering firelight. The glow of the orange flames danced across the page, reminding him of the fiery locks he had fallen for that day during the Battle of New York.

  
  


_Steve and Natasha fought tirelessly to keep the Chitauri soldiers focused on them instead of running amok around New York City. Steve breathed haggardly as he lobbed his shield at various targets, taking down multiple aliens at once. Catching his breath for a moment, he watched the master assassin grab a hold of a Chitauri weapon and use it against its master, slitting its throat with ease. Ichor sprayed across her face; she didn’t bother to wipe it off. The action would cost her precious time, and she was nothing if not precise._

_Sensing a presence behind her, she whirled around to attack. A lone crimson curl fell in front of her eyes, blood dripped from a cut on her forehead and lip. Steve tried not to stare at her in awe. When she realized who he was, she staggered back and slumped against an abandoned sedan, loosening her hold on the alien weapon. She panted heavily, gazing up at the onslaught of enemies that poured from the inter-dimensional portal above Stark Tower, “Captain, none of this is gonna mean a damn thing if we don’t close that portal.”_

_Steve followed her gaze up the Tower and frowned. “Our biggest guns couldn’t touch it.”_

_Natasha raised her eyebrows with an idea, “Well, maybe it’s not about guns.”_

_Steve caught onto her thinking as even more fresh Chitauri foot soldiers dropped down onto the bridge ready to fight. “If you wanna get up there, you’re gonna need a ride,” he said._

_Her narrowed eyes darted around following the paths of the alien flying chariots. She threw down the Chitauri rifle, “I gotta ride.” She sauntered over to the other end of the bridge. Steve glanced at the passing chariots above, and silently admired her recklessness and tenacity. He smiled slightly, before turning to face her. “Could use a boost though,” she called over her shoulder._

_Steve hurriedly backed up toward the edge of the bridge and took his stance with his shield angled in front of him. “You sure about this?” he asked._

_Natasha looked up with a slight shrug and nodded, “Yeah. It’s gonna be fun.” She looked back at him with a smile that said, as his fellow Howling Commando Jacques Dernier would say, ‘On va voir’.”_ (“We’ll see.”)

_Steve chuffed and gave her a slight nod. Natasha sprinted towards him, using the abandoned vehicle as a stepping off point, she lithely jumped onto the shield. As soon as she landed, Steve forced her up with all his might, adding height and speed to her jump. He watched in amazement as she spun around and effortlessly grabbed onto a passing chariot. As it whisked her away, Steve felt a huge grin spread across his face. A warmth spread through him that he had not felt since the day he crashed into the ice. He hoped he would be seeing a lot more of Agent Romanoff when all of this was over._

  
  


“I don’t need a babysitter, punk,” Bucky huffed as he settled into the armchair next to the couch.

“I couldn’t sleep, jerk,” Steve replied, not taking his eyes off his sketch. He had to get the curve of her bottom lip just right. “No one’s gonna babysit you.”

Bucky hummed in acknowledgment before rubbing his hand down his face. He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling, blowing out a sigh.

Finishing his sketch, Steve put down his pencil and closed the sketchbook, “What’s goin’ on?”

“I told Y/N I would stay,” he said. His gaze fixed on the wooden beams above. “I told her I wouldn’t go back to Wakanda, back into cryo.”

“But?” Steve prodded, turning his full attention to his best friend.

“My presence here is a danger to her and everyone else.”

“Does she see it that way?” Steve asked.

“No...no, I think she does, but she’s terrified that if I go back under she’ll never see me again.”

Steve nodded knowingly, “It’s understandable. The process of removing the programming is novel. It’s never been done. I have concerns too, but I have faith it will all work out in the end.”

“I mean I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t scared, Steve,” Bucky said looking back at his friend. “But, I am terrified at the possibility of losing her. Of losing her because of something I cannot hope to control. No matter how much faith and trust she places in me.”

Steve sighed, “So what do ya wanna do?”

Bucky leaned forward and put his head in his hand, “I can’t hurt her again. I won’t forgive myself.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve made up your mind.”

Bucky nodded, afraid to admit it out loud. There were some decisions he needed to make for himself. Doing this would hurt you, he knew that much. Promises carried a heavy weight with you and you took them seriously. But, he also knew you loved unconditionally. Because of this, he hoped you would be able to forgive him someday.

“We can leave whenever you’re ready.”

Bucky looked up at his friend, “Tonight. I need to do something first, but let’s leave tonight.”

Steve nodded, “I’ll prep the jet.”

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


You stood by Bucky’s side of the bed, clutching a piece of paper in one hand and his dog tags in the other. Hot angry tears flowed freely down your cheeks as you silently wept. You read over his letter once more.

  
  


**_Doll,_ **

**_I know as soon as you read this letter you will know where I’ve gone. I know you will be furious with me. And, you have every right to be. I told you I would stay and obviously I didn’t._ **

**_I know we promised to make decisions together. But, for almost 70 years, I didn’t get a choice, so I am making one now. For me. For you. For us. HYDRA took everything from me then I found you. You gave me hope, a reason to keep living. You are the best part of me. I won’t let HYDRA take you away from me._ **

**_Twice I have hurt you. Twice I have threatened your life. Twice I have almost lost you._ **

**_I can’t lose you, Y/N. I would never be able to forgive myself. I wouldn’t be able to keep on living without you._ **

**_I want everything we have talked about. I want to build a life with you. I want to build a home with you. Have kids with you. Grow old with you. I want to experience everything life has to offer, but only if I can do it with you._ **

**_We can’t do all these things until I am free of HYDRA’s influence. I can’t trust my own mind. I’m afraid of it and I don’t want to be. I know you don’t believe it, but going back under is the best thing for everybody. I can only hope I won’t be away from you for very long. And, if I am, hopefully, it’s worth it in the end._ **

**_I know I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. If you let me. I hope you will let me. I hope you’ll forgive me for this. But, I wouldn’t be able to go through with it if you were there. And I can rest easy knowing you will be safe with Steve and the others._ **

**_Don’t be too hard on Steve._ **

**_This was my choice._ **

**_I love you so much, doll. I hope you will be there when I wake up. I want you to be the first person I see._ **

**_Ești dragostea vieții mele, Y/N._ ** **(You are the love of my life.)**

**_Your Sergeant,_ **

**_James_ **

  
  


A soft knock sounded from your door before it opened. “Y/N?” Natasha called softly.

Your hand shook as you gripped the letter tighter, wanting to tear it to pieces, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You felt Natasha’s slender hand land lightly in between your shoulder blades. You let your arms hang loosely at your sides and dropped your head. “He’s gone,” you whispered.

 _“_ I know,” she soothed.

 _“_ Someone must have said something to him,” you shook your head in disbelief. “He was all for staying with us yesterday.”

 _“_ Was he really though?” she asked.

 _“_ He said he would stay,” _you affirmed. But, your voice was brittle, laced with doubt._

 _“_ I’m sorry.”

The familiar sound of the Quinjet’s engines drew your attention to the window. You and Natasha watched the reflective panels disengage before it landed effortlessly in the deep snowdrifts. You forcefully wiped your tears away with the back of your hand, pulling away from Natasha’s comforting touch. Placing Bucky’s dog tags around your neck, you walked to your closet and hastily dressed. Not bothering to lace your boots fully, you strode through the living room and out the backdoor. Steve had some explaining to do. You heard Sam call your name; you ignored him.

You pounded down the terrace steps towards the jet. Anger filled your strides. You met Steve halfway as he made his way down the path to the chalet.

“Y/N, I-” he started when he noticed your approach.

With a grunt, you shoved him hard with both hands. He staggered back slightly, out of surprise not because of your strength. Not giving him a chance to move forward, you shoved him again, using all your body weight to push him back. “Why?” you asked, “Why do you do it? Why did you let him go?”

Steve held up his hands to his chest in surrender. “It was his choice.”

“Bullshit!” you shouted. “What did you say to him?”

“Nothing, I only listened,” he said.

“You could have stopped him.”

“If anyone could have made him stay it would have been you,” Steve said softly. “That’s why he had to leave without telling you. This is the best thing, Y/N, for everyone.”

“I swear if I hear anyone say ‘this is the best thing’ one more godda-”

“He needed this,” Steve said

“Well, I needed him,” you said bitterly. Tears threatened to spill over. “And he knew that. He knew I needed him. And he fucking left. He just left.” You swallowed hard, determined not to cry. “And you let him!” You halfheartedly shoved Steve back once more; losing your footing, you fell against him. You bashed your fists against his broad chest. You knew you wouldn’t do any damage and at the moment you didn’t care. You just needed to hit something, anything, to rid yourself of the pain you felt in your chest. “You let him go!” you sobbed. Your strikes to his chest grew weaker. Steve pulled you to him and held you as you began to cry. “He promised...He promised he wouldn’t,” you whimpered, tears staining his shirt. “He promised we would make decisions together...but he fucking lied.”

Steve stroked your hair gently, trying to calm you, “He had a good reason. He-”

You scoffed, pulling away from him. “Don’t bother with platitudes, Rogers.” You roughly wiped the tears off your cheeks. “I don’t want to hear them,” you spat with a grimace. “He’s your best friend – his feelings, wants, and needs come first. You told me as much back in Berlin. Bucky comes first – regardless of who it affects.”

You heard footsteps approach, crunching through the snow. “That’s not fair, Y/N,” Sam said, coming to Steve’s defense.

Steve gave Sam a contrite smile, “No, Sam, she’s right.” He turned back to look at you. “But, my personal feelings aside, I still believe this to be the best course of action.” You blew out a sharp breath and looked away from Steve to the mountain valley town below. “He almost killed you and would have if we had not shown up when we did. The kill-switch didn’t work.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “We were out of options.”

 _“_ Wanda could’ve-” you started.

“He’s tired, sweetheart,” Steve said, moving into your line of sight. “You know he is.” His eyes searched your face. “It would be selfish of us to deny him a chance to rest, especially after all he has been through.”

Steve’s words hit you hard, you looked away from him. Perhaps, he was right; maybe you were being selfish in wanting Bucky to stay despite his misgivings and unease. You had begun to rely on one another heavily. The thought of the possibility of having become codependent on one another sickened you. Maybe your love had blinded you to the dangers of his condition, made you arrogant. Your hubris had nearly cost you your life.

It didn’t change the fact that Bucky had lied to you. He had looked you dead in the eye and lied to your face. You clenched your fists at your sides. After you had been nothing but honest with him from the very beginning, you trusted him and he lied. It was something you didn’t think you would ever be able to forgive, no matter how much you loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> I told you I live for the D R A M A! Stay tuned because there is a lot more to come.
> 
> Happy 2021, everyone! I hope your holidays went smoothly as mine did not, but nevertheless, we push on!
> 
> If you are enjoying the story, please comment, leave kudos and share with your friends!!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning Quote: “Superhero” by Falling in Reverse


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: violence and slight gore

  
  
  
  


**_“You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same_ **

**_Cursing my name, wishing I stayed_ **

**_You turned into your worst fears_ **

**_And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain_ **

**_Crossing out the good years_ **

**_And you're cursing my name, wishing I stayed_ **

**_Look at how my tears ricochet.”_ **

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


_Dried leaves and small patches of snow crunched underneath your small snow boot-covered feet. You breathed heavily, spinning in a circle. You searched for any sign of your older sister; she always found the best hiding spots. You cupped your hands around your mouth to amplify your small voice, “Hunter! Hunter! Where are you?”_

“ _You’ll never find me!” her voice called. The trees muffled the sound as it bounced off the leaves, making it difficult to decipher her location. Her voice seemed to be coming from multiple places at once. Your chest tightened as you were reminded of the book you and Hunter had been reading recently. Bilbo Baggins had just made his way through the Mirkwood to save his Dwarven friends while evading giant spiders with the ring that made him invisible. The descriptions of the spiders had frightened you so badly that you begged Hunter to skip ahead._

_You looked up and tried to spot her in the branches of the close-knit pine and birch trees, shielding your eyes from the early Autumn sun. Hunter was nowhere to be found. Panic began to build as you stumbled through the dense forest. The undergrowth became more difficult to navigate the further you pressed on. “Hunter!” you cried out desperately as a slender branch sliced your cheek, bringing tears to your eyes. “Hunter! Come back! I’m scared!”_

_The crunch of the undergrowth suddenly turned into the metallic clang of boots on metal. Your snowsuit had been replaced by your S.H.I.E.L.D. Tactical Suit and you held a gun tightly in your hands. The sounds of a struggle echoed off the metal halls. You slowed your pace as you rounded the corner. The sound of your pounding footsteps gave way to the squelch of rubber against something viscous. The sharp smell of copper flooded your nose. You looked down; large crimson pools of blood puddled on the floor. No way someone could have lost this much blood and lived. You swallowed hard as you continued to move toward the sounds of the struggle._

“ _She’ll never find you,” a distorted voice echoed down the hallway._

“ _Hide and watch, asshat,” a woman’s voice snarled._

_You stopped short; you knew that voice. “Hunter,” you whispered. You adjusted the grip on your gun before rounding into an open doorway, gun raised; your finger poised over the trigger. “I would suggest you...” your voice faltered as you took in the scene before you._

_Bodies lay scattered about the room. Crumpled into small heaps of dismembered flesh and bone. The metallic tang of blood in the air filled your senses overwhelming your nose to the point where you could taste it on your tongue. Your stomach dropped, your last meal threatened to make another appearance._

_A lithe figure in a tactical mask and glasses, held a kneeling Hunter by the hair, a dark combat knife at her throat. This wasn’t the Hunter you remembered though. This Hunter appeared older, leaner, and harder than the soft-bodied woman in her mid-twenties you had last seen. A sheen of grimy sweat made her skin glisten; small tendrils of hair laid plastered against her forehead. A thin stream of blood trickled from her nose. Her chest heaved as she took sharp short breaths as the tip of the knife pierced the delicate skin of her throat. “Dean?” you asked._

_Her eyes widened in recognition as she took in your appearance. They flicked to the gun in your hands then back to your face. “Sammy?” she whispered._

_The masked figure chuckled, “Ah, the L/N sisters. Together again.”_

“ _Let her go unless you want me to drop you where you stand,” you said, tightening the grip on your gun. You stared down Hunter’s captor._

_The figure breathed a distorted laugh through their mask. “Nice of you to finally join us, Sammy.” They tightened their grip on Hunter’s hair, she winced with a gasp of pain brushing past her lips. “Dean and I were just having a nice talk.” The use of your and Hunter’s childhood nicknames sent a spark of anger through your veins._

_You took a step closer to the pair, crossing the threshold “Do you have a death wish?”_

_The figure clicked their tongue and pressed the knife further into Hunter’s skin, widening the gash. Hunter whimpered and did her best not to writhe in pain, knowing any movement would cause further damage. “Now, now,” they soothed condescendingly, “step any closer and she dies.”_

_You gritted your teeth but stayed put. The tight grip on the gun made your hand tremble. “What do you want?” you growled._

_The figure laughed once more. The distortion hit your ears wrong; you winced at the noise. “I just need you to answer one question for me. Just one. You answer correctly and she lives. If you don’t...well...let’s just say there’s going to be even more of a mess to clean up.”_

“ _You gotta be shittin’ me. I’m not goin-”_

“ _It’s a simple question, relatively easy to answer.”_

_You looked down at Hunter and then back to the masked figure. “What’s the question?”_

_The figure chuckled, “Are you happy?”_

“ _What kinda question is that?!” you balked._

_The figure slid the knife further along Hunter’s throat, not deep enough to kill her but enough to draw blood. Your sister screamed; the primal sound of a wounded animal made your heartbeat quicken. Panic once more flowed through your veins._

“ _Stop!”_

“ _Think about it, Y/N. I’ll give you one more chance to answer truthfully.”_

_You looked from the masked figure to Hunter unsure of what to say. Were you happy? At the moment, no, you weren’t. But overall? Maybe. You swallowed hard as you tried to think of the best answer to the figure’s question._

“ _Tick-tock, Sammy,” the figure warned._

_You searched Hunter’s face. She knelt on the ground stone-faced, but fear lingered behind her eyes. There was no way you could possibly know how to answer the figure’s question correctly. Happiness was subjective; everyone had their own way of measuring it. You decided to answer as honestly as possible and hoped that would be enough. You looked back to the masked figure, “Yes, yes I am happy.”_

_A moment of silence passed before the figure breathed a weary sigh. “Wrong answer.”_

_Before you could say another word the figure sliced Hunter’s throat from ear to ear. You watch in horror as the light left her eyes and the color drained from her face as the blood flowed freely down her neck. The figure untangled their fingers from her knotted hair and pushed her over with her boot. Hunter’s lifeless frame fell with a wet thud into a puddle of her own blood as her murderer wiped their knife clean on their tactical pants._

_You fought a wave of nausea as you tore your gaze from Hunter back to the masked figure. “Why?” you shouted, struggling to keep your gun steady. “I answered honestly!”_

_A distorted chuckle emanated from the figure’s mask. “You’re not happy, Y/N. How could you possibly be happy? Everyone who loves you leaves you.”_

_Your eyes narrowed and a lump formed in your throat. “That’s not true,” you said through gritted teeth._

“ _Oh, come on!” the figure said exasperatedly, “First your parents. Then your grandfather.”_

_Your body shook with anger, “Stop.”_

_They continued. “Then Hunter. Then Rey.”_

“ _Stop it!”_

“ _And now James...after he swore he would always be there for you. He broke his promise.”_

_You pulled the trigger enraged by the figure’s statements, shooting them in the abdomen. They fell to their knees but gave no cry of pain. A laugh gurgled in their throat, “Everyone leaves you. Have you ever stopped to consider why this is?”_

_You pulled the trigger once more, hitting the figure in the shoulder. “Shut up!”_

_The figure slumped over and heaved a few ragged breaths before speaking again, spewing droplets of blood. “It’s because you’re not worth it, Y/N. Why would anyone waste their love on you?”_

_Hot tears rolled down your cheeks. Your jaw clenched in anger. Your hand ached from the tension your tight grip created. “Stop...Stop it,” you whispered with a shuddering breath._

“ _You. Are. Nothing.”_

_A strangled roar ripped from your chest as you unloaded your clip into the figure, watching in satisfaction as their body jolted in every direction as each bullet met its mark. They fell to the ground in a crumpled bloodied heap; the fall caused their mask and glasses to become dislodged, revealing their face._

_Your satisfaction turned to terror as you realized the true identity of the figure. As you stood over their body, your face stared back up at you. A wicked smirk forever etched across your features._

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


**The S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. January 2017.**

  
  


Your fingers flew across the black and white keys, bathed in the moonlight that poured in from the living room windows. Nightmares plagued your sleep every night for the past month since Bucky’s sudden departure. It had become routine to fall asleep alone on your and Bucky’s bed only to awaken a few hours later covered in sweat and screaming. You were grateful that your room was on the opposite wing of the house. After you collected yourself, you would dress and pass the rest of the night in front of the piano until you heard Steve and Sam get ready for their morning run.

You thought you had hidden your lack of rest fairly well. Always playing off your early rising as either finishing an early morning workout with some form of training or completing an analysis on files you data-mined Although, you expected they knew something was off on a subconscious level. When the others went out on missions, one person would always stay behind to keep you company under the guise that they weren’t needed for that particular mission.

You knew you needed to do something; otherwise, you would just sit in the chalet and waste away. Besides, the others needed you to help out with their missions. You couldn’t let them down. 

When there wasn’t a mission to prepare for, playing the piano brought you some comfort but not much. With your headphones on, you didn’t see one of your roommates approach until a steaming mug of tea appeared in your line of vision. Slightly startled, you looked up to see the moonlight play across the planes of Sam’s face.

“Sorry,” you said as you removed the headphones. “I...I didn’t hear you come in. Did I wake you?”

Sam shook his head and nodded toward the mug in his outstretched hand. “Barnes told me once that you like hot toddies.”

Your eyes flicked to the mug and then back to his face. He smiled. You nodded and took the mug from him. “I do,” you said, blowing on the hot liquid before taking a sip. “Thanks.”

He nodded before moving to sit in the armchair next to you. The one where Bucky used to sit while he listened to you play. “Can’t sleep?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

You sighed heavily and stared into the mug of golden liquid. There was no use in lying to him now. “No,” you said softly, “Not much anymore.”

Sam nodded, “Nightmares?”

“More or less,” you took another sip of your drink, allowing its familiar taste to relax you slightly. “Apparently, I haven’t been hiding it as well as I thought. I didn’t think anyone knew. Is that why you’re up at this ungodly hour?”

Sam shrugged, “I know the effects of trauma when I see it..” He looked your way, “And, we all get them sometimes.”” You hummed in acknowledgment. A few moments of silence passed between the two of you as you both sipped your drinks. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You sighed, placing the mug on the windowsill. “At the moment? No, not really. Should I? Probably.”

“I don’t need to know the details if you don’t want to tell me,” he offered.

You nodded, “They are just your regular run-of-the-mill nightmares. Reliving warped events of past trauma. The people I love dying. Placing the blame on myself...” You powered down the keyboard and wrapped up your headphones. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before. It’s just...” your voice trailed off.

“When Barnes was here, it was easier,” Sam finished for you.

You swallowed hard and nodded.

He nodded knowingly, “I get that. It’s easier having someone who knows a little about what you are going through to talk to.”

“Exactly,” you affirmed.

“We’ve all got our demons,” Sam said, leaning forward. “You don’t have to shut us out and hide.”

You took the mug in your hands once more, “You guys have enough to worry about.” You shook your head. “I don’t want to be a burden on you in any way.”

Sam chuckled slightly and placed his hand on your knee, “Like it or not, Y/N, you are a Secret Avenger now, a part of the team. And, teammates help each other out. You’ve done so much to help us. It’s only fair we return the favor.”

You smiled, trying to swallow the lump forming in your throat.

“You can always come and talk to me if you need to, no matter how late it is.”

You took his hand in yours and gave it a squeeze, “Thanks, Sam.”

“Anytime,” he smiled back before leaning back in the armchair.

You sighed and finished the remainder of the hot toddy. “So what do you do when you can’t sleep, Dr. Phil?”

Sam snorted, “Back at the Compound, I would just watch whatever was on TV until I fell back asleep, usually reruns of old shows.”

“Hmmm,” you grabbed your mug then his, and took them to the sink. “Ever see _Parks and Rec_?”

Sam scoffed, “Who hasn’t seen _Parks and Rec_?”

You queued up the show on your laptop that was hooked to the TV. “ _Parks and Rec_ it is then.”

Sam chuckled and moved to the sofa. As the opening credits rolled, you settled in next to him. Before the first episode ended, you fell asleep with your head resting on Sam’s shoulder.

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


“Uh-huh,” you said, pacing back and forth by the dining room table. You held your secure line to your ear. “You sure about this? Okay. Okay. Can you send me those coordinates? Gotcha. Okay. Thanks, Agent.” You snapped the phone shut. “Cap?” you called out as you sat in front of your laptop, opening the encrypted email from Sharon Carter.

The former Agent 13 had become one of your informants after witnessing the CIA’s blatant disregard of the evidence regarding Bucky’s innocence in the Vienna bombing. She initially reached out to Fury to find out how she could be of service who in turn directed her to you. At first, you had been upset with Fury, but if he gave her your number then he must have trusted her at least a little bit.

So far, all of her info had been solid, but you still didn’t trust her. So you kept her at arm's length. You would always double-check her tips, using some of your old hacking skills. When you spoke with her you kept the team’s location a secret no matter how many times she asked. She explained she was more than willing to leave the CIA in order to help your cause. Thankfully, you ultimately convinced her it was better to have her stay close to Deputy Commander Ross so she could give the team a heads up if they were closing in. And honestly, the team didn’t need the drama of her vying for Steve’s attention. Not that Natasha would care; she knew Steve would never be swayed from her side. And, you knew she would be able to beat Sharon if it ever came to blows.

Steve and Natasha walked into the kitchen from the garage which he and Sam had recently turned into an indoor training room after slowly collecting exercise equipment on various supply runs and missions. “New mission?” he asked, taking a seat at the table. The rest of the team trickled in, taking seats at the table as well.

You nodded, “We got word of a small black market operation illegally selling Chitauri technology in Syria.” You ran the email attachment through your virus and malware scanner before opening it. “Deputy Commander Ross doesn’t think it to be too much of a problem given their size. However, there is evidence that possibly links it an even bigger operation, possibly the newly reborn HYDRA.” You sent the file to everyone’s tablets for them to look over.

“There’s always a bigger fish,” Pietro quipped as he flicked through the documents you had sent.

You chuckled, “Exactly.”

“What’s the timeline?” Natasha asked.

“My contact says they are set to make a deal with said bigger fish in 24 hours,” you replied.

“And how certain are we that this info can be trusted?” Steve asked.

“So far their information and tips have held out,” you said, “but, I did some digging and it’s legit.”

“By digging you mean hacking,” Natasha said with a sly smile.

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, Nat. I may or may not put my hacker hat back on. Don’t worry I didn’t leave behind any of my signatures.”

She chuckled, “Okay, boss.”

“Actually, he’s the boss,” you said, pointing to Steve. “I’m just ‘the lady in the chair’ like Penelope Garcia or Felicity Smoak.” Pietro and Wanda chuckled.

Steve shook his head at you, “Alright. Wanda, I know you are still recovering from the last mission, so you can stay behind with, Y/N.” Wanda nodded knowingly. She had gotten hit pretty hard on the head with an electroshock arrow, not unlike the ones Clint used, on their last mission. “We will need you at full strength anyway so you can destroy whatever tech we come back with. But from the info we have, it looks like we will need everyone else for this mission.” Sam, Natasha, and Pietro nodded. “Get what you need, wheels up in an hour.”

Steve started the engines for the Quinjet once everyone was prepared. You helped Sam load the last of the supplies. “You gonna be okay?” he asked.

You nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I need to talk to Wanda about a few things anyway. Just make sure one of you checks in every 12 hours. Keep us updated on your progress.”

“Will do, boss,” Sam smiled; he gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

You chuckled, “I’m not the boss. You couldn’t pay me enough to be the boss.”

“Thing is, I’m not getting paid,” Steve said with a smile as he stepped into the main cabin.

“Exactly why I don’t wanna be the boss,” you said, giving him a quick hug.

He returned your embrace and then looked at Sam, “You ready to go?”

Sam nodded and embraced you.

“Be safe,” you said, “Take care of each other.”

“Don’t worry,” Natasha said as she calibrated her electroshock batons, “I’ll make sure they don’t do anything stupid.”

You laughed and made your way down the ramp, standing next to Wanda. “Remember, check-in every 12 hours,” you shouted.

Steve gave you a mock salute, “Yes, ma’am.”

You and Wanda watched the Quinjet take off then disappear from view as the reflective panels engaged. Once the noise of the engines faded, Wanda turned to you. “Are you hungry?” she asked, “I’ll make us some paprikash.”

You smiled. Ever since your talk with Sam, you made a point to get past your jealousy of the Twins relationship. You took every chance to get to know them better. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

A few hours later, you and Wanda sat at the dining room table, nursing large bowls of chicken paprikash over egg noodles. “This is amazing,” you moaned in between bites. “How is it that we’ve relied on Sam’s or my cooking all this time when you can do it 10 times better?”

Wanda chuckled with a humble nod of her head, taking a sip of her wine. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad you made enough for everyone because they definitely need to taste this.”

She laughed, “Trust me; Pietro would kill me if he found out I didn’t save him any.”

You chuckled. The two of you lapsed into an easy silence as you ate. You had been debating how to ask Wanda to show you what she had seen inside of Bucky’s head that day she went through his memories. You felt you would never fully understand his reasoning for going back into cryo-sleep willingly if you didn’t know. And if you did know, maybe you could come to terms with his broken promise.

“Wanda?” you asked after a few moments, wiping your mouth with a napkin.

“Hmmm?” she said.

“I was wondering. Is it possible for you to show me what you saw when you went through Bucky’s mind that day?” You swirled your whiskey in your glass.

Wanda stiffened in the midst of sipping her wine. She slowly lowered her glass. “Why?” she asked.

“I have to know,” you pleaded. “I have to understand why he chose to go back under. Why he chose to break his promise.”

She sighed heavily, “I don’t think that is a good idea. The things he’s seen...”

“Who are you to decide whether or not I can see them? You’re not-”

“I’ve seen the things you’ve seen too...” she stated sadly, not meeting your eye. She picked at her chipping nail polish. “You don’t need any more pain.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock, “You’ve...You’ve looked inside my head?!”

“I don’t mean to,” she placated. “Everyone’s thoughts are so loud sometimes. Honestly, it’s convenient...” You sat in stunned silence. “I know you lost your only sister in the most horrible way,” she continued, “and I know that’s why you’ve kept me and Pietro at a distance. Being around us is difficult for you.” You moved to say something; she shook her head and held up her hand, “I get it...if I ever lost Pietro, I...I don’t know how I would be able to live.”

You thought for a moment before speaking, processing her words, “I appreciate the honesty...I really do. But, it still doesn’t mean you get to decide what’s best for me.” You reached across the table and took her hand. “I need to understand, Wanda, please. Otherwise, I’m going to just sit here and spiral.”

Wanda sat in silence as she pondered your words. After a moment, she squeezed your hand, “...Alright.”

You squeezed her hand back, “Thank you.”

~*~*~*~

The next morning you sat in Bucky’s armchair and tried to relax your mind. With your eyes closed, you breathed deeply through your nose and out through your mouth, feeling every part of your body become heavy. Bucky told you when Wanda searched his mind, the feeling was indescribable but it didn’t hurt, even though from the outside it didn’t appear that way.

You opened your eyes and nodded to Wanda. “Okay,” you said, “let’s do this.”

Wanda nodded as she stood behind the chair and placed her hands on either side of your head. “Are you sure about this, Y/N?” she asked one final time.

You nodded, “I’m sure. I need to know.”

Wanda nodded and her eyes glowed red as thin tendrils of psionic energy poured from her fingertips. “If you need to stop, just say so. Okay?”

You swallowed and nodded. A slight tinkling sound filled your ears as the tendrils of energy drew closer. You gasped slightly as a wash of warm energy filled your head and moved down your body. You felt as if you weren’t the only one in your mind. “You okay?” Wanda asked.

You nodded, “Yeah, it’s just weird but not in a bad way.”

“Good, we’ll keep going. Get ready. Remember we can stop at any time.”

Your eyes fluttered close as the presence in your mind became more prominent. Suddenly your mind’s eye was flooded with images, sounds, and feelings that weren’t your own, you began to see things through Bucky’s eyes.

You watched as Steve tried once more to enlist in the Army, feeling overprotective and desperate to convince him to stay behind just this once. You smelled the damp earth as the HYDRA weapons destroyed Azzano. The cannon fire sprayed dirt and blood every which way. The soreness in your body as HYDRA worked you to the bone, building the Valkyrie. The searing pain of large-gauge needles injecting various unknown substances into your body. Zola’s wicked smile. The stomach-dropping sensation of falling. Your state of delirium as you were “rescued.” The whirring of a bone saw as it sliced off the remains of your left arm. The bone-chilling cold of your new metal prosthesis and the cryo-chamber.

From that point on the images blurred. You weren’t sure what was real and what wasn’t. However, the emotions and feelings were crystal clear. The pure white-hot pain of electricity flowing through your body as they attempted to bring you under their control by force. The desperation to hold onto something, anything, of your former life. The defiance in not giving in to what they wanted. Thinking if you could hold out for a bit longer, the Commandos would find you soon; Steve would surely find you. Slowly, your resolve chipped away until you finally gave in to them, hoping the pain would stop. But it never stopped.

Memories blurred together once more until you saw yourself through Bucky’s eyes. You saw yourself when you first met in the alley behind the jazz club and felt the warm liquid of whiskey and honey pour down your throat. You felt Bucky’s feelings for you grow in a short amount of time. So short that it frightened him. You saw yourself laughing and smiling. You felt Bucky letting go of his inhibitions and allowing himself to acknowledge his feelings for you and fully explore them. You felt the love he had for you. An all-consuming feeling of warmth, happiness, and completeness. Something that chased his darkness away, but also came with the ever-present fear of losing that newfound feeling, losing you in some way. Then you felt the fear and shame that came from the first time he attacked you as the Soldier. The conflict of wanting to stay with you and wanting to keep you safe. The two ideas festered in his soul, causing a never-ending conflict, no matter how much he shoved it to the back of his mind. The idea that he was a monster and that was all he would ever be.

Slowly, you felt the presence in your mind withdraw allowing your feelings to resurface. You felt as though you understood him a little better. But, the anger of what HYDRA had done to him grew exponentially. You heard Wanda call your name faintly as you came to. Your eyes fluttered open. Her pale green eyes looked into yours filled with worry.

“Are you okay?” she asked, taking your hand in hers. You blinked a few times and felt a few tears escape. You wiped your eyes; the back of your hand rubbing across sticky skin where other tears had etched their paths.

You sniffed and tried to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yeah...” you croaked, “Didn’t realize I had been crying.” Wanda nodded and handed you a glass of water which you took gratefully. You drained half the glass before you spoke again. “Did I scream at all?”

“Surprisingly, no,” Wanda said with a small smile, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. You nodded and drank the rest of the water. “Did you find what you were hoping for?” she asked.

You sat back in the chair and tapped your fingers on the empty glass, deep in thought. “Yeah, I think so...I understand him a little better I think.” Wanda nodded and waited for you to continue. “Mainly, I’m angry. What HYDRA put him through wasn’t right. I’ve always known this, but experiencing a piece of it for myself? I cannot imagine having to endure seventy years of that level of torture and abuse.”

Wanda nodded knowingly, “Bucky is strong in more ways than one. Now that he has you and the team, he is even stronger.”

You shook your head, running your hand through your hair. “If I were Bucky, I would be so angry at the world. But instead of burning the world down, he is trying to be better, trying to move on. I don’t know if I would be able to.”

_“Shit, I don’t even know if I am able to...”_

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


The rest of the team returned that evening and celebrated a successful mission with Wanda’s paprikash. You and Wanda said nothing of your exploits a few hours prior. After dinner, Wanda followed Sam and Pietro outside to dispose of the collected Chitauri weapons. Wanda would use her powers to reduce the alien technology to atoms, erasing them from existence. You, Natasha, and Steve stayed behind to clean up the kitchen. As you and Steve washed dishes, you decided to broach the topic you had been thinking about since Wanda showed you Bucky’s memories.

“So is that offer to join the team still on the table?” you asked as Steve handed you a plate to dry.

He cocked his head to the side, confused, “What are you talking about? You are a part of the team.” He continued washing dishes.

“I mean-” you started.

“She means out in the field, Steve,” Natasha stated as she finished wiping down the dining room table. She walked over, nudging Steve’s leg to the side as she placed the cleaning spray under the sink. “Right?” she asked before taking the dried dishes and putting them in their respective cabinets.

“In so many words,” you nodded to her, then turned to Steve, “like a full time ‘Secret Avenger’.”

Steve wiped his hands on a dishtowel after he handed you the final pot to be dried. “I thought you didn’t want to be out in the field,” he said, leaning against the counter.

You shrugged as you handed the pot to Natasha to be put away. “Am I not allowed to change my mind?”

Steve breathed a laugh, “I mean...yeah..but I thought the plan was that you and Bucky would stay out of the fighting, ya know to start over.”

You ran your hand through your hair, “Yeah, well, things didn’t exactly go according to plan, did they?” you muttered. Steve sighed heavily.

“What Steve is trying to ask,” Natasha said as she hopped up on the kitchen counter, “is why did you change your mind all of a sudden?” Her sharp green eyes searched your face for any clues.

You turned and leaned against the counter, staring at the dishtowel as you twined it around your hands. “I asked Wanda to show me Bucky’s memories, so I could better understand his reasoning for leaving the way he did.”

Natasha said nothing, but Steve stood up a little straighter.

“What I saw...what I felt...” you continued, “I can’t just sit back and let HYDRA become what they once were,” you looked back up at the pair, “not when I know I am capable of doing more.”

“This isn’t a battle you need to fight, Y/N,” Steve said, resting his hands on his hips.

“No, it isn’t,” you said, “but I want to.” Natasha eyed you with a slight smirk on her face; you could tell she was all for you joining the team. Steve moved to say something, but you cut him off, “I want HYDRA to burn.” Your voice turned steely as you gained confidence. “They turned Bucky into a nightmare; so I am going to be theirs.”

Steve breathed a sigh and looked at Natasha. Her smirk had grown into a huge smile. “Oh, I’m all for it,” she said, “She’s more than capable of handling herself.” She gestured your way. “The others would agree with me...But you are the boss,” she continued with a saccharine smile and even went so far as to bat her eyelashes at him.

Steve smiled and looked at the floor, shaking his head. “Alright, Y/N,” he said, looking back at you, “Welcome to the team.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> It's been a while since I've updated. But, I've been working on a new Avengers oneshot book that I think ya'll will like. I'll be posting it once the first oneshot is done. 
> 
> I'm thinking there may be a slight time skip in the next chapter, but we shall see. 
> 
> As always, comment, leave kudos, and share with your friends if you are enjoying the story!
> 
> Thanks for sticking around and thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning Quote from "my tears ricochet" by Taylor Swift.
> 
> UPDATE: The introduction and the first oneshot of my new story Avengers Oneshots has been posted! You can find them by accessing my profile!


	8. Chapter Seven

**_“I thought I was the victim, I played it well_ **

**_Sifting through the records, trying to find myself_ **

**_I tried to be salvation, tried to make it change_ **

**_Ooh, but I've come too far to look the other way”_ **

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


**The Rocky Mountains. Telluride, CO. March 2017.**

  
  


The beat-up rusted pick-up truck bumbled up the narrow mountain road. Your next mission location took you deep into the Rocky Mountains. Using the Barton Homestead as a base, you, Steve, Natasha, and Sam chose to drive the 16 hours straight through to Telluride where you would be using your grandfather’s cabin as a temporary base. It wasn’t safe to land the Quinjet in such a densely populated area. Pietro stayed behind just in case the FBI decided to make a surprise visit, so the Quinjet would be safe. And on the way to the US, you dropped Wanda off in Scotland. She had been communicating with Vision since the escape from the Raft prison. They had been visiting one another every few months. Scotland was one of their favorite places; one could get easily lost in the Highlands if need be.

You stopped every so often to switch drivers and sleep in shifts. Since you knew where the cabin was located, the arduous task of navigating up the winding muddy mountain road fell on your shoulders. How the old Toyota Tacoma managed not to fall to pieces with each bump in the road, you would never know.

Steve sat in the passenger seat; eyes glued to the tablet in front of him. “I didn’t know ghost towns were an actual thing,” he mused as he flicked through the files. “You hear about them in movies, but I always assumed it was more of a metaphor.” He studied the satellite surveillance photos. Unlike your previous missions, Coulson reached out for your help on this one. All of his normal teams were tied up with other missions, and this mission detailed a massive stockpile of Chitauri weaponry and technology which could be destroyed safely by Wanda.

“Oh, yeah, there’s lots of them out here in the mountains,” you replied, keeping your eyes locked on the road. “Most of them were part of the silver mining boom. The ones easiest to get to were turned into parks or other tourist attractions. The more remote ones have been left for nature to take back.” Steve hummed in acknowledgment. “Some of those mines run pretty deep,” you continued, “it would make sense for HYDRA to use them as a weapons cache.

As you turned the corner, you slowed down as the familiar sight of your grandfather’s cabin opened up before you. Using his investment accounts you inherited upon his passing, an automatic draft paid a groundskeeping and housekeeping service to keep the cabin in good condition. It seemed wrong to leave it there to waste away even though you hadn’t been there in almost 8 years. An automated draft also made sure the electricity and water remained connected, although it was more for the sake of the groundskeepers than actual residents.

The truck rolled to an unintended stop as you looked around the property. The forest surrounding the cabin had thickened over the years, but the driveway had been cleared of any debris. The dark log cabin stood silent. Its windows darkened – no light shone from within. No smoke poured from the woodstove’s chimney. The cabin seemed smaller than you remembered, but larger at the same time now that you no longer felt your grandfather’s and sister’s presence. You sighed heavily, shuddering as you did so. Tears pricked your eyes. It felt so strange to be back here after all this time. You felt as though you weren’t welcome here anymore.

Steve looked up from the tablet and over to you when he noticed you had stopped in the middle of the road. “You okay?” he asked softly. He laid his hand gently on your arm.

You cleared your throat and shook your head, “Yeah...yeah, sorry – it’s just been a long time.” You stepped on the gas and maneuvered the truck up the driveway, opting to park behind the small barn instead of under the carport to not attract attention. As you turned off the truck, you heard Natasha and Sam stir. In the rearview mirror, you watched Natasha stretch her arms over her head as she uncurled herself from her catlike position.

Sam yawned loudly as he gazed out the window, taking in the sight of the cabin. “Ah, nah,” he chuckled, “I’ve seen this movie before. Either this mission is going to end with blood raining from the sky or a monster’s giant hand coming up from underground to destroy us all.” He stepped out of the truck, shrugging on his jacket.

“Sam,” Steve warned, shooting him a stern look that Bucky had dubbed “The Eyebrows of Disappointment.”

“What?” Sam asked innocently. He rounded to face you; his expression dissolved from one of amusement to one of contrition the instant he saw your face. “Oh, shit,” he said meekly. “Y/N, I–“

You sniffed and waved him off. “No worries,” you shrugged on your jacket, “Hunter would have said the same thing.” Natasha eyed you carefully as she and Steve removed the go-bags from the bed of the truck. You gave her a small smile, “It’s fine.” You turned towards the cabin and cocked your head to the side. “It’s got that look to it.” You dried your eyes, determined to stomp down the pain you felt being in a place so familiar, yet so foreign. “C’mon, let’s head inside.”

The inside of the cabin no longer resembled the cabin you grew up in. After your sister passed, you sold most of the furniture and décor and redecorated in hopes of renting the cabin out for a little extra money. But, when the time came to put it on the vacation homes’ company website, you backed out. It didn’t feel right to you renting out your childhood home where the two people dearest to you had spent their last days. So it sat empty and unused for almost a decade. Being back here now sparked a slight feeling of homesickness and regret in your chest. You felt as if you should have made more of an effort in maintaining your connection to the place. After all, not all memories you had of it were negative. Happiness could be found here as well.

Sam and Natasha set to work on unpacking the obscene amount of food Laura had supplied your team with so you would not need to risk being recognized. Steve headed outside to gather firewood for the woodstove. In true log cabin fashion, just because it had electricity didn’t mean there was a central air and heating system. You unpacked your computer equipment and began to set up your pseudo-command center at the kitchen table, using the untraceable wifi hotspot provided to you by Coulson.

As Steve walked back into the house after pounding his boots clean of snow and mud, he gave a low whistle. “The scenery around here is beautiful, Y/N. It’s so quiet.” He moved into the living room and began to build a fire in the woodstove.

You nodded, “Yeah, Granddad was kinda a hermit.” You checked your network connections. “After he came back from the Vietnam War, all he wanted was some peace and quiet, so he moved out here.” You chuckled lightly, “Of course that peace and quiet was short-lived because my sister and I came to live with him when our parents died.”

“How old were you?” Natasha asked as she handed Sam some Tupperware to place in the fridge.

“I was 4 years old. Hunter was 10.”

“That must have been hard on you,” she said.

You shrugged, “It was more difficult for Hunter than it was for me. Because I was so young, I only ever knew this place as my home; I didn’t have any adjusting to do really, unlike Hunter. Her life was completely uprooted. New town. New home. New school. No friends. No parents. Just me and Granddad.” You smiled as you continued checking your equipment, “She was a superhero though. She helped Granddad raise me. He taught me how to handle a gun, change the oil in the truck, how to drive, build a fire, shoot whiskey,” you laughed lightly at the memory. “Hunter taught me all the girly shit: puberty, ‘the birds and the bees’, how to do my hair, and how to program a computer. Ya know, the normal things.” You looked back at Sam and Natasha, both smiled at you, and offered you a glass of whiskey that you managed to sneak out of Clint’s liquor cabinet. You walked over and took it gratefully, feeling more relaxed than you had when you first walked in.

The door to the wood stove clanked shut when Steve managed to get the fire going. He joined the three of you in the kitchen, taking the glass of whiskey Natasha offered him with a smile. “So what’s the plan, Cap?” Sam asked as he leaned against the counter.

“Well, Coulson said he didn’t think they would be moving anything anytime soon; so tomorrow we will head up to the mine to do some recon and then go from there,” Steve said.

The three of you nodded in agreement. “Sounds like a plan, Specimen,” you said lightly, saluting him with your glass then downed the rest of the liquid. “Did Laura pack us any of the pasta we had yesterday? I’m starving.”

Sam nodded and opened the fridge, removing the leftovers Laura had packed for them. He set to work to reheat them while Steve set the table. Even Laura’s leftovers were to die for.

A few hours later, Steve decided everyone should have an early night in order to be ready to go as soon as the sun came up. You nodded, “Okay as far as sleeping arrangements, there are three bedrooms. I’ll take my sister’s old room. Steve, you and Nat can take the master bedroom, and Sam you can take my old bedroom.”

“Are you sure about that, Y/N?” Natasha asked, concerned. Aside from Bucky and, technically, Wanda, Natasha was the only other person on the team who knew the full story regarding your sister’s passing. She had woken you up from a nightmare one night when she heard you screaming. You found yourself telling her everything before you realized what was happening. The story wasn’t an appropriate topic for civilized conversation, and you didn’t want everyone and their mother to know. It’s not that you were ashamed, but that you didn’t want to have to relive the pain in explaining it to someone new.

You forced a smile, “Yeah, it’s fine, Nat.” She nodded but concern still lingered behind her eyes. “I need to go through her closet anyway. There are some things I want to take back with us to Austria.”

“Okay,” Steve said, grabbing his go-bag. “We should all get some sleep. We don’t know what will be in for tomorrow.”

You nodded, slinging your go-bag over your shoulder, and made your way towards the back bedroom.

As you closed the door to Hunter’s old bedroom, it felt as if the rest of the world just faded away. You had redecorated but the layout was still the same. Some of her personality remained, however. Her favorite books and figurines littered the shelves. Her favorite color graced the walls. You slid the go-bag off your shoulder and placed it on the floor. Taking a deep breath, you made your way further into the room, trailing your fingers along her dresser and bookshelves. “Hey, Dean,” you said, “it’s been a while. I’m sorry it took me so long to come back.”

“A lot has changed since I’ve been away.” You opened the curtains, revealing the light of the waning crescent moon. “You honestly wouldn’t believe it.” You opened the closet door, “I’m technically a superhero now?” You tenderly ran your fingers over her brown leather jacket before taking it in your hands. You stood silent for a moment bringing the jacket up to your nose. It surprised you that it still smelled like her: lavender, clean linen, and juniper smoke. The familiar scent caused tears to spring to your eyes and the lump in your throat grew bigger.

Overwhelmed with a sudden sorrow, you slowly sank to your knees, burying your face in the jacket. “I’m sorry,” you whispered as you wept. “I’m so sorry; I wasn’t able to save you.” A sob escaped past your lips, muffled by the jacket. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” Your shoulders shook as sobs wracked your body; you bit your hand to keep them quiet. The others couldn’t know. You couldn’t break down again. You heard a soft knock at your door. As quickly as the tears came, they stopped.

  
  


_ “I’m getting too good at that.” _

  
  


You quickly dried your eyes and sniffed, rubbing the back of your hand across your nose. “Yeah?” you called out.

“It’s me,” Natasha called through the door.

You folded the jacket in a vain attempt to hide the tear stains. “Come in,” you said, clearing your throat. The door opened softly, you tucked your hair behind your ears and busied yourself rummaging through your go-bag for a change of clothes.

“Hey,” she said softly, closing the door behind her.

“Hey Nat,” you said, not looking at her. You heard the soft thud of her placing something on the bed. You looked up to see her unpacking her go-bag. “What are you doing?”

She shot you a confused look as she laid out her toiletries, “Getting ready for bed; what’s it look like?”

“What about Steve?” you asked futilely. She was just as stubborn as you were, perhaps even more so.

“He’s a big boy,” she chortled, “He can be without me for one night.”

“And I’m a big girl,” you said.

Her gaze met yours, “I know...” she sighed, “but you need me more than he does right now.”

Your lower lip began to tremble; you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from losing control once more. A stiff nod was all you could give her. She moved around the bed; arms outstretched. “Hey,” she soothed, embracing you, “Hey, it’s okay.” Your forehead fell against her shoulder as you tried to steady your breathing. She rubbed your back to calm you.

Once you collected yourself after a few moments, you pulled away with a smile, “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She rubbed her hands up and down your upper arms. “We never lose our demons, Y/N. We only learn to live above them.” You nodded knowingly. If anyone knew anything about demons, it was Natasha. “Come on,” she said, “let’s get some sleep. We’ve got a job to do tomorrow.”

You nodded resolutely. The job wasn’t finished. It was your team’s duty to dismantle HYDRA once and for all. And you couldn’t wait to burn it to the ground.

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


**An Abandoned Mineshaft. The Rocky Mountains. March 2017.**

  
  


You breathed deeply, desperately trying to ease the tightness in your chest. Your mouth tasted like pennies. It took all your will not to vomit. You just really hated dark enclosed spaces. The last thing you needed was Steve and the others to think you couldn’t handle yourself, especially after last night’s episode. You had been a part of several missions for the past few months, but those were peanuts compared to this one. This was the biggest, most heavily-manned base the team had infiltrated so far. The grip on your gun tightened as you followed Sam further into the mine. You wondered if he was nervous especially since he was without the use of his wings.

Silently, the two of you made your way through searching for an opening into the main cavern below. Steve had the four of you split up into teams of two to do some recon and then report back immediately. He ordered everyone not to engage unless absolutely necessary. The metallic whir of machinery could be heard up ahead. You caught Sam’s attention and jerked your chin in the direction of the noise. He nodded and followed you into a small alcove tucked into a nondescript corner of the main shaft.

Hidden behind a few slats of plywood, you and Sam stared into the cavern below. A group of dozen or so HYDRA agents stood amongst wooden crates of various sizes, arguing about something, but you couldn’t make out what. “Sam?” you asked.

“On it,” he replied. He deployed Redwing and sent him flying into the cavern below, careful to keep to the shadows. Hovering near the group of agents, Redwing’s multidirectional microphone picked up their conversation easily and relayed it to your earpieces.

_ “Everything is ready for the next shipment.” _

**“Excellent. Klaue’s former associates will be happy to hear that.”**

_ “What do they need this level of firepower for?” _

**“Something about gettin’ revenge on the Wakandans?”**

Your eyes widened; you looked to Sam in alarm. He gestured for you to stay calm. “Hey, Cap,” he said using the comm, “You might wanna hear this.”

“Patch it through,” Steve’s voice came over your earpiece.

Using the control panel on his wrist he broadcast the conversation below over the comm system.

**“Just make sure all of these weapons go out within the next hour.”**

_ “Yes sir.” _

**_“Wakanda’s a third world country. They don’t have anything of value. Why blow them off the map?”_ **

_ “Who cares? We are getting a massive payday and if there is one thing HYDRA needs right now, it’s cash.” _

Your knuckles turned white with the tightness of your grip around your gun. You clenched your jaw. Fury spread through you. They had to be stopped. Too many people were going to die if you didn’t do something now.

“What do we do, Cap?” Sam asked.

“Stay where you are. Natasha and I are coming to you,” Steve ordered.

You barely registered Steve’s words. Bucky’s life was at stake. The fear of losing him consumed your thoughts. You quickly surveyed the room. There were too many weapons here for you to transport back on with the truck or the Quinjet. You dropped Wanda off in Scotland under the impression that her abilities wouldn’t be needed for a while. Vision had turned off his transponder so there was no way to track them down. No, the weapons had to be destroyed here. And you knew just how to do it.

“We have time before that shipment goes out. We need to come up with a plan of attack.” Steve said over your earpiece.

You cocked your gun, “I have a plan,” you said, moving swiftly down into the main cavern. “Attack.”

“Y/N!” Sam called lowly after you, trying not to blow your cover.

“What’s going on?” Natasha’s voice came over your earpiece.

“Y/N is engaging,” Sam said.

“Y/N! Pull back! Pull back now!” Steve ordered, his tone authoritative and stern.

You ignored him, silently making your way down the stacks of crates courtesy of the sound-absorbent boots given to you by T’Challa. You approached the group of agents as they finalized preparations. As you leapt down the remaining 10 feet, you smiled to yourself as the agents remained unaware of your presence. “Hello there,” you called out.

The group wheeled around to face you, guns at the ready. “Who the fuck are you?” one asked.

“Oh c’mon, guys, that’s not the right response to that phrase,” you taunted. “You’re supposed to say ‘General Kenobi!’.”

“Identify yourself!” one called out.

“Fellas, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Easy way, you all put down your guns and leave the mine so you don’t get buried under tons of rock and/or blown to pieces by all this alien tech here. The hard way, well...you–“ One of the agent’s guns cracked off. You stumbled backward as a bullet hit you in the shoulder. You hissed in pain. That was going to bruise for sure. Thanks to the bulletproof nature of your Tactical Suit, you easily removed the bullet and tossed it on the ground. “Okay, I see you’re choosing the hard way,” you said through gritted teeth, diving behind the nearest crate as every agent ahead of you blindly opened fire.

  
  


_ “Damn, these assholes have worse aim than storm troopers.” _

  
  


Once out of sight, you used stealth to take out as many of the agents as you could. Taking a page out of Bucky’s book, you continued with your knife training. Handheld taser disks had proved to be too small and easy to lose in a combat situation. Your knife of choice was the Gerber Mark II. Twirling the blade loosely but expertly in your hands, you sliced your way through several agents. HYDRA always had a contingency plan. You needed to get to a computer terminal and activate the self-destruct sequence.

You heard the unmistakable whine of thrusters as Sam entered the fray, gunning down agents in his path. You heard his wings fold in on themselves as he landed near you. “Y/N!” he called out. You quickly ran toward him, slapping your hand over his mouth, and dragged him into the labyrinth of shipping crates as he had just given away your position.

“What the hell?” he whispered when you finally let him go. “Cap told us to wait.”

“We had no time to discuss this in a committee,” you hissed, peeking your head around the corner before making your way further toward the main control room you spotted on your way down. Sam followed close behind. “We needed to catch them by surprise and not give them any more time to prepare the shipments.”

“What you did was reckless,” Sam said. “Because of you, everyone has been alerted to our presence and are probably on their way here.”

“Good,” you said. “More rats to go down with the ship.”

“What are you talking about?”

“If there is one thing I have learned from data-mining their files for the past three years, it’s that HYDRA would rather destroy their own shit than have someone else get their hands on it. Hell, HYDRA agents in World War II had fake teeth filled with cyanide they could just crunch down on in the event they were captured by the enemy.”

“What are you gonna do? Blow up the mine?” Sam asked as you took out another agent.

“That’s the idea,” you huffed, cleaning your knife in the crook of your elbow. The smear of blood glistened against the black matte fabric of your tactical suit.

Sam’s eyes flicked down to the knife in your hand and back to your face. “Remind me never to piss you off,” he quipped.

You smiled wickedly, “So you gonna help me or what?”

“Fine,” Sam sighed. “What’s the play?”

“I saw a control room on the other side of the cavern. I need to find a computer terminal and see about activating the self-destruct sequence. Meanwhile, I need you to be a look-out and the getaway car so to speak.”

“Got it,” he said, following behind you; his guns drawn, “And if there is no self-destruct sequence?”

“Well, we are surrounded by highly volatile alien weaponry. I’m sure we can find a way to blow it up ourselves.”

“You’re–”

“A genius?”

“Crazy.”

You stopped behind the last of the stacked crates before the control room. You cocked your head to the side and then shrugged, “Well, you’re not wrong.”

Sam peered around the side of the crates, tapping the sides of his goggles, “I’ve got four agents outside and two inside.”

“You take the ones outside. I’ve got the two inside.”

Sam nodded and readied his guns, “Three...two...one…”

The pair of you ran toward the unsuspecting agents, you moved past the four outside agents easily as Sam descended upon them, guns blazing. You kicked in the rickety door before the two agents inside had a chance to barricade it. You easily took them out with shots to the chest. Shoving one agent out of their chair, you moved in front of the computer monitor, sliding in the Rubber Ducky to bypass the security systems.

“C’mon. C’mon. C’mon,” you murmured under your breath as you flicked through the files.

Sam entered the control room, “We’ve got incoming on all sides. You need to find that sequence now.”

“Hang on, lemme check this one file,” you said clicking on a folder. “Got it!” you opened the terminal and typed in the initiation command. “Cap?” you hailed Steve on your comm.

“Y/N! I told you–“ He yelled.

“Lecture me later, Rogers,” you snapped, glancing out the window of the control at the hoard of oncoming agents. “You and Nat need to head for the surface now.”

“What? Why!?”

“Remember the factory in Kreischberg?”

“Y/N! Don’t!”

“You’ve got two minutes.” You said hitting enter. A countdown came over a loudspeaker accompanied by an ear-piercing alarm. You and Sam darted out of the control room easily making your way past several distracted agents.

The main cavern erupted into chaos as HYDRA agents abandoned their posts and headed for the nearest exit. Those still blindly loyal to HYDRA began to pursue you and Sam. You turned to see one HYDRA sniper set his sights on Sam and take the shot. Instinctively, you shoved Sam out of the way of the oncoming bullet. Luckily, the bullet missed you completely. However, it hit a crate full of Chitauri guns. The resulting explosion catapulted you and Sam into a small adjoining mine shaft. You wheezed as the cloud of dirt and rock entered your lungs, but managed to stand up and leaned against the wall. Every part of your body hurt. You winced as your arms wrapped around your abdomen.

Once Sam got his bearings, he wheeled around on you. “Damnit, Y/N!” he yelled, “What were you thinking!?”

“I saved your ass, Wilson,” you croaked angrily.

“You could have gotten us both killed!!” Sam shouted. The muffled sounds of explosions echoed from somewhere deep in the mine. The ground shook and streams of dirt rained from the ceiling. “We’ve gotta get out of here...fast!”

You nodded and made to move off the wall. A white blinding pain shot through your body. You doubled over with an agonized wail and staggered a little towards Sam. You looked up and held your hand out in front of you. Thick crimson blood covered it, your blood. “Yeah...” you breathed heavily, “about that...slight problem...” Your vision went black as you fell to the floor.

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


**Shuri’s Laboratory. Wakanda. March 2017.**

  
  


Steve and the others watched as Shuri scanned your body with her Kimoyo beads. A full scan of your body appeared over you. Your injury glowed red as Shuri zoomed-in analyzing the wound. “She is lucky,” Shuri said. “No major organs sustained any damage. She has a severe concussion. Her pelvis has been shattered along with several very large lacerations and contusions. There is some nerve damage as well.”

“Will she recover?” Pietro asked, his voice shook.

Shuri looked over the readout and then to the panel next to her displaying various medical information. She smiled, “She will live.”

Pietro, Natasha, and Sam sighed in relief. Steve stood stoic, mulling over the events that led them here. “How long will the procedures take?” he asked.

“Not long,” Shuri said. “You should be able to take her back tomorrow. But, she will be unconscious for a few days to heal fully.”

“We’ll leave you to it,” Steve said. “Thank you, your highness.” He nodded for the others to follow him out. Two members of T’Challa’s kingsguard escorted them to a waiting area.

Sam and Natasha settled heavily into two leather chairs, exhausted. Pietro stood in awe in front of the wall of windows overlooking The Great Mound and the MagLev trains that whizzed past carrying raw vibranium to various destinations. Steve stood stiffly with his arms crossed. They had gotten you here just in time. Thankfully, you and Pietro had the same blood type so they were able to give you a transfusion on the way to Wakanda. But had they taken any longer you would have died.

“What happened, Sam?” Steve asked.

Sam leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “One minute she was there; the next she was gone. I’m assuming she heard where the weapons were headed and just reacted. We found the control room activated the self-destruct sequence and then made for the exit. She shoved me out of the way of a sniper’s bullet. The bullet hit a crate full of those weapons and just exploded; she took the brunt of it.” He clapped his hands together. “She saved my life, Steve.”

Steve shook his head, “She didn’t follow orders. What she did was reckless.”

“I know,” Sam affirmed.

“Maybe letting her on the team was a mistake,” Steve said.

“Maybe,” Natasha agreed. “But how many people would be dead right now if she hadn’t done what she did?”

“It still doesn’t change the fact that she acted irrationally and irresponsibly. She’s become more and more reckless with each mission. We can’t afford to have someone like on the team; we need to be able to work together,” Steve said.

A few moments of silence passed between the four team members.

“So what do you suggest we do?” Natasha asked.

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


** The Barton Homestead. Missouri. March 2017. **

  
  


The chirps of songbirds gently woke you. Your eyes fluttered open. Sunlight trickled in through the gauzy curtains, highlighting swirling motes of dust. The bright colors of a child’s painting drew your attention. Various knick-knacks and photos lined the floating shelves above the bed. The bedclothes felt familiar. You moved to sit up, but your vision swam as you did so.

“Whoa,” a soft kind voice soothed. “Easy there, Y/N.” Their arm reached out to steady you as your head stopped spinning. You blinked blearily in their direction. Laura Barton’s face slowly came into focus.

“Mom?” you croaked, coughing violently at the movement of air past your vocal cords. Laura offered you a straw set into a glass of water. You sipped the liquid gratefully. “What happened?” you asked.

“You were injured during the mission,” Laura said, as she placed the glass back on the nightstand. “Pretty badly from what Pietro told me.”

You thought back to the mission. Escaping the mine. Saving Sam. The explosion. Blood. So much blood. “The others?” you asked anxiously.

Laura rubbed your arm, “They’re fine,” she soothed, “Pietro, Sam and Nat are all back in Austria. Steve’s here though. He wanted to make sure you were alright when you woke up.” You cringed internally. You had disobeyed orders and acted on your own accord. Surely, you would be subjected to a lecture at some point. “I will say your friends in Wakanda are a bunch of miracle workers,” Laura added.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Your injuries were very severe,” Laura said. “You suffered a shattered pelvis, a concussion, along with various cuts, bumps and bruises.”

“But, I...” you stammered, “How...how long was I out?”

“A few days.”

“A few days?! Laura, shattered hip bones don’t just heal in a few days!” you said in disbelief. You pulled up the Wakandan tunic Shuri must have put you in and looked down at your body under the blankets. You were bandaged pretty heavily, but your pain was minimal. Surely too minimal for a shattered pelvis and bruised organs. Your brow furrowed in confusion.

“Like I said,” Laura smiled, “miracle workers.”

A soft knock sounded from the door before it opened slightly, revealing Steve and Clint. “We heard voices,” Clint said, stepping into the room. “How ya feelin’, Nightingale? Ya gave us quite the scare.” He moved to take Laura’s place on the bed by your side. Steve remained by the door. His arms crossed over his chest.

“Like I should be in a helluva lot more pain than I am,” you said.

Clint smiled, “Yeah, the folks in Wakanda hooked you up real nice.”

“So, I’ve been told,” you said, “I’m sorry for worrying you.” You looked at Laura and Clint in turn.

“Bah,” Clint waved you off.

“We’re just glad you’re okay,” Laura said.

You smiled softly before turning your attention to Steve. “Specimen,” you greeted.

“Glad to see you’re still with us, sweetheart,” he said, not returning your smile.

You sighed heavily; you might as well just get the lecture over with. “Give us a minute?” you asked Clint.

He nodded, “Of course.” He leaned in and kissed your forehead. “We’ll be downstairs; the kiddos will be happy to know their big sis is feeling better.” He held his hand out to Laura who took it and let him lead her out of the room. Clint nodded to Steve on their way out. Laura gave you a soft smile as she shut the door behind her.

A few moments of silence passed as you and Steve stared at one another. He had not moved from his place by the door. Unlike Bucky, anyone could read Steve’s face like an open book. His expression informed you that he was not happy in the slightest. Eventually, you broke the silence, “How’s Sam?”

“He’s alive,” Steve answered coolly, his arms remained crossed across his chest. “Thanks to you.”

You nodded, “And the HYDRA base?”

“Destroyed, along with all of Chitauri weaponry.”

“Has anyone informed Coulson?”

“Nat did. He thanked us on a job well done.”

“Good.” You let the last word hang in the air. If Steve wanted to lecture then he was going to be the one to initiate it. You weren’t about to ask for it.

“What were you thinking, Y/N?” Steve said angrily.

“That we didn’t have time to discuss how to approach the situation. We needed to act while we had the upper hand.”

“I told you not to engage.”

“Sam and I were right there. You and Nat weren’t,” you said calmly.

“You didn’t even tell Sam what you were doing,” Steve said exasperatedly. “We’re supposed to be a team. Soldiers trust each other. That’s what makes it an army, not a bunch of people running around shooting guns.”

“We’re not soldiers,” you said.

“You just went off on your own,” he raised his voice, “You can’t do that!”

“I don’t regret my actions,” you stated firmly, keeping your voice level. Yes, you hadn’t followed orders, but your actions had destroyed a major HYDRA weapons cache and source of income.

Steve’s mouth sat in a hard line. “You got lucky this time, Y/N. That is the only reason why you are still standing,” he said using the voice he reserved for HYDRA agents. His jaw ticked in anger. “What about the next time, huh? What if you died? How would Bucky feel? Did you even think about that? About how it would affect him if you died?”

Your stomach dropped at the mention of Bucky’s name. A wave of guilt washed over you. You broke his gaze and stared out the window. The quilt clutched in your hands. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“I know Bucky leaving was hard on you–“ he started, taking a step toward you.

“Don’t, Rogers,” you said sternly. A hint of sadness lingered in your tone, but you were determined to hold back your tears. You had done the right thing; you were sure of it.

“I know you want HYDRA to pay for what they’ve done,” he continued, sitting down next to you.

You swallowed hard but said nothing.

“Shit, we all do. But, we can’t let our personal feelings get in the way of the job.”

You exhaled a sharp breath through your nose, “Why am I here? I know you took me to Wakanda. I know that I am almost basically healed. So why am I at Clint’s and not in Austria with the others?” You had a feeling you knew what his answer would be. You just wanted him to say it.

“You’ve been letting your emotions cloud your judgment. They’ve been overriding everything. You’ve become more and more reckless with each passing mission. At first, I thought it was just due to your inexperience, but I can see now that’s not the case.”

“And?” you prodded, finally looking over to him to meet his eye.

“And,” Steve sighed, his shoulders slumped forward. “The team thinks it best you take a break. Clint and Laura are more than happy to have you. You’ll be safe here.”

“So, I’m being exiled?” you said with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s not like that,” Steve started.

“No, it is,” you scoffed. “It’s exactly like that.”

“You need to–“

“Don’t tell me what I need, Steve,” you said forcefully, looking back toward the window, “You don’t know a damn thing about what I need.”

Steve sighed heavily, looking at the floor and shook his head. He stood up, the bed creaked as he did so and crossed the room toward the door. “If we need you, we will let you know,” he said, opening the door to leave. “Until then, take some time to think.”

You stared at the opposite wall and didn’t acknowledge him. The door shut with a soft click. Only when you heard the engines of the Quinjet fire up, did you allow yourself to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE:
> 
> I both love and hate this chapter.
> 
> But now, we get to get into some of the fun stuff I have planned. 
> 
> As always, comment, leave kudos, and share with your friends if you are enjoying the story. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger.
> 
> Beginning quote: "Bad Intentions" by Digital Daggers


	9. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Smut (It's been a while, you're welcome. :D)

  
  


  
  


_“ **You gotta get back up from the wreckage above and walk right through the fire**_

_**No matter what happens, the fact is that the flames keep getting higher** _

_**You gotta keep it going, keep tiptoeing through the fire and the flames and the pain of knowing** _

_**The world is dark, gotta keep on glowing, gotta give that spark, gotta keep on glowing.”** _

  
  


  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


  
  


**The Barton Homestead. Missouri. March 2017.**

  
  


Beads of sweat stung your eyes as you allowed the rhythm of your pounding strikes against the punching bag to lull you into a trance-like state. The harsh sounds of electric guitars, double bass drums, and screams of raw emotion poured from your headphones into your ears, volume turned up as loud as you could stand to drown out your own thoughts. Your thoughts as they were now would surely lead you down a dark path of desperation and helplessness should you acknowledge them. The shocks of sensation that rippled up your arms as each punch landed grounded you and kept you from spiraling.

  
  


_“Right jab. Left punch. Right uppercut. Left jab. Right punch._ _Le_ _ft_ _uppercut.”_

  
  


A week since you destroyed the HYDRA base. A week since you saved Sam. A week since Steve had left you here in exile. You had been idle for a week, floating on a sea of uncertainty. What could you do now? What would you do?

You had tried to keep up as normal of a routine as possible since your injuries fully healed. Gods, you loved Wakandan technology. In the mornings, you helped Laura around the house and took care of Nathaniel, who was entering the “terrible twos” stage, giving Laura a well-deserved break. In the afternoons, you trained, sometimes with Clint but mostly by yourself. In the evenings, you entertained Cooper and Lila, helping them out with homework, watching TV, and playing video games. Usually ending the day on the front porch with Clint and a nightcap.

  
  


_“Idle hands make fretful minds.”_

  
  


You could almost hear your grandfather’s voice in your ear. For so long, you had something to focus on. Something to work toward. Now, you had nothing. And you couldn’t stand to just sit around and wait for something to happen.

The sounds of your favorite rock band abruptly ceased as someone unceremoniously tugged your earbud out of your ear. You turned to find Clint placing the earbud in his ear curiously. A grimace crossed his features as he jerked his head away from the earbud with a look of disgust. “Dear Christ, Nightingale,” he said as he offered the earbud back to you, “Are ya tryin’ to go deaf?”

You scoffed, “Says the man who is technically deaf.” You paused your music and placed Bucky’s iPod down near your workout equipment.

Clint braced himself behind the punching bag as you resumed your practice. “Falling in Reverse, huh? You must be having a tough time of it.”

“What gave it away?” you asked, the sarcasm dripped heavily from your tone.

Clint chuckled, “You always played Falling in Reverse when you were having a rough go of it back in the day.” This much was true. Oftentimes, you would wear your headphones at work to drown out everything else when you didn’t want to deal with anyone or were having a particularly bad day. Many times, Clint came into your office and had to yank them off your head to get your attention.

“I hate spies,” you said as you threw your punches. “Do you know that?”

Clint chuckled, “Spit it out.”

You threw a few more punches before you spoke, “I don’t see why I’m being punished for completing the mission objective.” You threw more punches, switching hands. “I think Rogers is a fucking hypocrite for chastising me about being reckless; he’s just as bad if not worse.” Your punches turned more aggressive, less controlled. “I hate feeling stuck. I hate not being able to help.” Sweat poured down your back and your arms went numb, but you continued to punch the bag. “I feel like I should do more. I’m sick of waiting around for something to happen.” Your punches grew weaker, slower as your stamina drained. You slowed to a stop, breathing heavily.

“Nuh-uh, Nightingale,” Clint said with a shake of his head. He moved from behind the punching bag and swung at you. You ducked away from his punch just in time, backing away to put some distance between the two of you. “I know ya got more grievances,” he huffed as he came at you once more. You met his punches halfway, blocking his strikes. “Air ‘em out! C’mon!”

You panted as you looked for an opening in his defenses. “Tony Stark,” you swung at him. “Secretary Ross,” you aimed a kick his way. “Everett Ross and Helmut Zemo can all rot in hell .” Clint caught your foot and threw you back. You quickly righted yourself.

“Uh-huh,” Clint panted, “Keep goin’.”

“I want to burn HYDRA down for what they’ve done. I want them wiped from the face of the earth. I don’t care how long it takes or what I have to do .” You swung your leg hooking your foot behind his, kicking his feet out from under him. He kneed you in the chest throwing you over his head when you moved in to pin him down. You rolled out of it. “I’m pissed because Bucky broke a promise. I’m angry that he lied!” You rushed Clint, fists flying. “He left.” Clint managed to spin you around and wrap his arms around yours. “Deep down I know why he did it and I know it was for the best.” You kicked off the ground, throwing all your weight backward, and then using gravity you threw Clint to the ground over your head. He tucked and rolled out of it. You rushed him once more trading blows until both of you were locked in a position where neither of you could gain the upper hand. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less,” you said between ragged breaths. You backed away from him conceding the fight.

Clint’s skin glistened with a sheen of sweat as he rested his hands on his knees. He drew in deep breaths to regulate his heart rate. “Feel better?” he asked heavily.

You unscrewed the top of your water bottle and took small sips. Oddly, enough you did feel better. You felt lighter with everything out in the open. You nodded and tossed a bottle to Clint. “Yeah,” you said, taking your towel and wiping your face. Clint chugged half of the bottle greedily. “Thanks, Dad.” You smiled.

The archer nodded, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “Anytime, Nightingale,” he said, returning your smile. He strode over and helped you unwrap your hands. “You’ve gotten better,” he said proudly. “Nat been teaching you?” You nodded with a grin. He chuckled, “Thought so.”

You packed up your things and began to pick up your exercise equipment around the barn turned training room. “I take it you didn’t come here for an unorthodox therapy session originally,” you said.

Clint stacked weights and you pushed a mat to the side. “No,” he said with a snort, “I came to tell you dinner was ready.”

You laughed as you gathered your things. “Well, we best not keep Mom waiting any longer.”

Clint threw an arm around your shoulders as you both exited the barn and kissed your temple. “Exactly, unless you want mayo on your hot dogs again. ”

You crinkled your nose in disgust, “Gah! Who puts mayo on a hot dog?”

The two of you walked down the short path from the barn to the house, “So whattaya gonna do now that you’re done mopin’?” Clint asked.

You waggled your eyebrows wickedly, “Research.”

Clint laughed out loud, “That’s my girl.”

  
  


  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


  
  


**The Barton Homestead. Missouri.** **May** **2017.**

  
  


After dinner, you sat at one of the desks in Laura’s workspace. Since you had been here last, Clint busied himself in his retirement/house arrest by chipping away at the tasks on his “honey-do” list. He had knocked out the east wall of the dining room and put up some baffling, turning it into a large office. “We always eat in the kitchen anyway,” Clint had told you. With your music and sustenance courtesy of, a now teenaged, Cooper, you dove into research regarding cult deprogramming and various trauma therapies.

You reasoned that if by some slim chance Shuri was unsuccessful at removing HYDRA’s programming entirely from Bucky’s mind, alternative methods would need to be explored. As to be expected, your weeks of research into various scientific methods and evidence-based practices, eventually pulled you down a rabbit hole of alternative medicine.

In the wee hours of the morning with Cooper snoozing in a large armchair beside you, YouTube played a clip of a rather unknown documentary discussing various forms of Eastern spirituality and the “miracles” people had experienced because of them.

  
  


**_"_** ** _After an unfortunate accident at his place of work,_ ** **_Jonathan Pangborn_ ** **_was_ ** **_paralyzed from the mid-chest down with partial paralysis in both hands.”_ **

_“_ _With Dr. Strange’s refusal to_ _meet with me, much less_ _treat my injury, I eventually gave up on trying to heal my body and focused on strengthening my mind. After visiting various gurus, medicine men, and sacred sites, I eventually found a teacher in Nepal that broadened my mind to all kinds of new possibilities. When my spirit healed, my body followed.”_

  
  


You snorted in disbelief as you continued to scan through the files brought up under your search parameters. 

  
  


_“_ _They thought my condition was untreatable. But my teacher proved them and me wrong...Healing through belief is sometimes all the medicine a person needs.”_

  
  


Your gaze flicked once more to the video player. The documentary showed various before and after clips of Pangborn’s condition: his X-rays and MRI scans, clips of him in a wheelchair – all frail and wasting away, and replaced by clips of his current condition. Now, he appeared healthy, and of course, he could walk. There were even a few clips of him playing basketball at his local community center. He moved as if he had never been paralyzed like the accident never happened. It seemed Mr. Pangborn had achieved the impossible. But then again, these days you guessed anything was possible. There was so much about the world you lived in that you didn’t know. You paused the video and leaned back in your chair to think.

The information given by Pangborn had been vague. He never revealed who his teacher was or where they were located. He said nothing about the actual process or how much time it took. In all likelihood, he was lying and none of what he said to the filmmakers was true. But after two months of research, you had come up empty on any viable alternative options to help Bucky should Shuri’s plan fail. A small voice in the back of your mind whispered, “What’s the harm in looking into it a little further?”

You sat upright, cracking your back and then your knuckles before setting to work. QUN87CHF23YJ4 was back in business.

  
  


  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


  
  


Just as the sun began to rise over the fields, drowning them in a golden light, you sat back from your computer to digest all of the information you had uncovered.

It was true.

Everything Pangborn said was true.

He had been severely injured in a factory accident. According to the hospital records, the accident had shattered his C7 and C8 vertebrae, resulting in a complete spinal cord injury which led to his paralysis. He had seen multiple physicians and specialists: neurosurgeons, orthopedic surgeons, doctors specializing in gene therapy, etc. All had come to the same conclusion.

He was untreatable, and there was no way for modern medicine to help him. You doubted even Wakanda’s advanced technology could repair the damage done to his spinal column.

In an effort to keep his body from wasting away as much as possible, he attended physical therapy three times a week, spending hours upon hours strengthening his muscles. The man tried for years to get better, desperate to find a solution in the ever-innovative field of Western medicine. Then his doctor visits and physical therapy appointments abruptly ceased. His last visit had been to see prominent New York neurosurgeon, Dr. Stephen Strange.

His bank records revealed Pangborn spent a vast amount of the money the factory awarded him in a settlement after the accident on plane tickets and travel accommodations. He spent most of his travels in Asia, bouncing around Thailand, Japan, Singapore, India, China, and Nepal. But it gave no clues as to who his teacher was or where they were located. You exhaled loudly and stared at the ceiling. “Fuck,” you muttered under your breath.

Cooper stirred in the armchair next to your desk. “Women shouldn’t cuss,” he quipped, leaning back into a full-body stretch with a groan.

“Get fucked,” you retorted playfully, kicking his foot lightly.

“Didja stay up all night?” Cooper asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Uh-huh,” you answered, moving to consolidate the files you had gathered into one folder.

“What didja find out?” he asked, leaning over your shoulder to see the computer screen.

You shrugged, “Could be nothing – probably is nothing.” You queued up the video clip of Pangborn’s interview for the documentary. “But, this guy apparently was paralyzed due to a spinal cord injury and through some master’s mysterious teachings he’s able to walk again.”

A confused look settled over Cooper’s face as he watched the video. “Okay,” he drawled, “but how does that help Buck?”

“Well, he said once his mind healed the rest followed. Maybe the teaching could be applied to Bucky’s situation. Maybe it could help him override the Winter Soldier programming easier, and maybe his memories could become clearer."

Cooper remained unconvinced, “I dunno, Lex. Sounds like a buncha horseshit to me.”

“Language,” you admonished playfully. You smiled at the nickname Cooper had christened you with when you first met him three years ago when he had been obsessed with all things Jurassic Park. He stuck his tongue out at you.

You turned back to the computer, “And it may be a buncha horseshit, but it’s one of the better leads we have.” You flicked through the files, “I just wished we knew where this elusive and wise teacher was located.”

“What info did you get on the paralyzed dude?” Cooper asked, taking a seat in the armchair once more after grabbing a paperback from a nearby shelf.

“Hospital records. Bank records. Some travel itineraries. He’s spent a lot of time in Asia,” you replied, not taking your eyes off the screen. “He doesn’t have any social media and I haven’t cracked his email yet.” You typed a few commands into the terminal to speed up the process of breaking into his email.

“Well have you looked to see how long he stayed in the places he visited?” Cooper asked. “Check the date of transactions with the hotel and airlines.”

You stilled your movements. “Huh,” you said, “didn’t think of that.” You glanced over at the teenaged boy who flipped through one of his summer reading books. “Since when did you become so observant and logical?” you teased.

Cooper scoffed, “You know who my dad is, right?”

You rolled your eyes, “Alright, smartass. Do me a favor? Make some coffee?”

Cooper slumped further into the chair, “Ehhh,” he whined, “Do I have to?”

“If you want blueberry waffles with that lemon glaze you like so much, you will,” you said, turning back to the computer. At the mention of breakfast food, Cooper was off like a shot, bounding into the kitchen. You heard him stumble around to make coffee as quickly as he could. You snickered.

  
  


_“_ _Typical boy –_ _will do anything for food.”_

  
  


Three cups of coffee and two large waffles later, your decrypting program finally cracked Pangborn’s email. Siphoning through the promotions for various metalworking tools and cheap airline tickets, you matched the dates of emails sent and received during the period of time he was in Nepal, per Cooper’s suggestion. Pangborn spent a long time in Nepal, almost a full year. He didn’t send many emails during his time there. Those he did send were short updates to various family members, but none of them mentioned where he was staying or what he was doing during his time there. You looked over the bank records once more. Pangborn had booked an airplane ticket to Kathmandu, but surprisingly no lodging.

Your eyes narrowed. He must have been staying with his teacher; that was assuming the teacher was located in Nepal. However, according to the paper trail, this seemed to be the most logical place to start. With no mentions of his lodging or the people he was with, you pulled the metadata from the emails. You planned on using the IP address to locate the various places he visited. It surprised you to learn they were all sent from the same IP address; quickly, you were able to pinpoint the exact location.

Pulling up Google Earth and plugging in the coordinates, you watched as the satellite photos zoomed in on a large building reminiscent of a temple in what appeared to be one of the rougher neighborhoods in Kathmandu. Using the street view feature, you searched for a sign or something to indicate the address of the building. When that failed, you turned to the neighboring buildings. Finally spotting a street number and name on the outside of a cafe, you searched for temples or healers in that area deducing the probable address from the surrounding buildings.

One of the first results was a post from an encrypted internet forum referencing the temple as Kamar-Taj. The thread indicated Kamar-Taj was the residence of a teacher called The Ancient One. There they taught others to harness their own power through meditations, study, and various martial arts training. Like Pangborn’s reports, the exact nature of the teachings and training remained a mystery. Scanning through the forum, a familiar name stood out to you.

Dr. Stephen Strange.

You had seen the neurosurgeon’s name in Pangborn’s files. You read over the parent thread. Someone had apparently seen Strange at the temple over a year prior reportedly to learn the ways of The Ancient One after his car accident. You pulled up another search engine and input the neurosurgeon’s name.

Dr. Stephen Strange held both an M.D. and Ph.D. He had been a prominent and brilliant neurosurgeon at Metro-General Hospital in New York City until his hands were crushed in a horrific car crash that in your opinion should have killed him. The resulting nerve damage to his hands ended his career as a neurosurgeon.

Using your programs and algorithms, you were able to quickly pull up information regarding the good doctor. Apparently, in his past life as a surgeon, he had been arrogant, haughty, and incredibly vain. His social media presence left a large footprint until early 2016 when just like Pangborn it abruptly ceased. His bank records indicated completely depleted checking, savings, investments, and retirement accounts. His last purchase being a one-way ticket to Kathmandu. “I’ll be damned,” you muttered.

Pulling up a picture of the man, you remarked that he was conventionally handsome with an oval-shaped face, dark cropped hair with streaks of silver on the sides, and piercing blue eyes. You felt you had seen him before. Rifling through the files regarding Pangborn, you pulled up the clip of him playing basketball at the community center. You paused the video and peered at the screen. There in the background was a tall man with dark silver-streaked hair and the same blue eyes. “Holy shit.”

“Shit.” A small voice behind you said. You quickly turned around and noticed Nathaniel standing in the doorway, haphazardly holding a sippy-cup in his hands. The almost-three-year-old giggled happily, “Shit.”

“Oh no, mister-mister,” you said, jumping up from your computer and swinging the toddler into a hug. “We can’t use that word. Only your momma can use that word. She coined it. It belongs to her.” Nathaniel smiled at the attention he was receiving from you and placed a rather sloppy kiss on your cheek as you sat in front of your computer, placing him in your lap. The toddler settled into your arms, drinking from his juice cup as you continued your search into the former neurosurgeon.

“Now, where are you currently, Dr. Strange?” you asked rhetorically. Your program pulled up a credit card statement that listed his current billing address as 177A Bleecker Street, Greenwich Village, New York City, NY. You pulled up the address on Google Earth once more and revealed a massive four-story brick building with a large circular window near the roof that resembled an eye. You remembered seeing something like it in the encrypted internet forum.

Pulling up the forum threads once more you came across the symbol once more, commenters referred to it as the Eye of Agamotto or the symbol for Masters of the Mystic Arts. You slowly sat back in your chair, running your fingers through Nate’s hair lulling him into a light snooze.

  
  


_“Mystic Arts. The Ancient One. A semi-secret temple. Miracles.”_

  
  


You rubbed your free hand down your face tiredly. You were in desperate need of a nap and contemplated following the lead of the toddler dozing in your arms.

  
  


_“This is too much for one day, and it’s barely noon.”_

  
  


“Nightingale!” Clint called from across the house.

Shifting the sleeping toddler to rest against your shoulder, you rose from your chair and padded into the living room. “What is it?” you asked. Clint’s face was somber; he gestured to the TV.

  
  


_**"Today, charges** _ _**for the murders of Howard and Maria Stark** _ _**were officially filed in Nassau County,** _ _**Long Island, New York** _ _**against Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, The Winter Soldier and infamous HYDRA operative allegedly responsible for dozens of acts of terrorism and political assassinations** _ _**over the past 50 years**_ _ **."**_

  
  


Placing your hand over Nathaniel’s exposed ear, you turned towards Clint, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He shook his head with a sigh and looked back to the TV.

  
  


_**"Mr. and Mrs. Stark were killed on December 16**_ _ **, 1991, in what was**_ _ **ruled** __**to be an automobile accident**_ _ **.** _ _**However, the case has recently been reopened due to new evidence that suggests they may have been murdered by The Winter Soldier himself. Tony Stark, former CEO of Stark Industries and The Avengers’ Iron Man has been working with the District Attorney and Long Island law enforcement to ensure that justice is finally served after 25 years."**_

  
  


Clint clenched his fists at his sides. “I can’t believe Tony would go and do something like this.”

You scoffed angrily, “I can. Stark wants revenge. He didn’t get it in Siberia. He feels cheated.” The news outlet switched over to an interview with the billionaire inventor.

  
  


_“It may have taken twenty-five years, but I believe we finally have the person responsible for the death of my parents. And, the thought of being able to put their killer behind bars has given me a new sense of peace.”_

  
  


“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you soughed.

  
  


_**"A status conference has been set for early July of this year. The question everyone** _ _**is asking right now is who will represent Sergeant Barnes and will he actually come out of hiding for these court proceedings?"** _

  
  


Laura turned off the TV, sensing the growing discontent in you and Clint. She took Nathaniel from your arms and moved upstairs to put him down for a nap.

Clint turned to you. “He has to know Buck didn’t do what he did willingly.”

You sank onto the couch and put your head in your hands. “Oh, he knows. He just doesn’t care.”

“He was quick to forgive me when I helped Loki steal the Tesseract and nearly caused the Helicarrier to fall outta the sky.” He sat down next to you.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t murder his parents now did you?” you retorted.

“If I could leave my property, I would be headin’ to New York to give him a piece’a my mind,” Clint seethed.

Your mind circled back to the information you discovered earlier about The Mystic Arts. You chewed on your lower lip. If you went to New York, you could talk to Jessica about finding a lawyer to discuss the upcoming trial and search for this Dr. Strange and The Ancient One. Unlike Clint, you didn’t have an FBI agent monitoring your every move. As far as any law enforcement was concerned, you were still in the wind.

“Then I’ll go,” you said, lifting your head.

“Y/N, no, you can’t. There’s still a warrant out for your arrest,” Clint replied.

“I have friends that will help hide me,” you reassured him, “and I have the nanomask.”

Clint shook his head, “It’s too dangerous.”

“I don’t need to ask you for permission, Dad,” you said. “I’ve found something. Something that may help Bucky. And the answers are in New York.”

Clint gave a sharp exhale through his nose and looked you in the eye. “Fine,” he said. “But at least tell Cap where you are going.”

You frowned, “Why?”

“Because he deserves to know, and what if they need you?”

You sighed exasperatedly, “Okay.”

  
  


  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


  
  


**The Barton Homestead.** **Misso** **uri.** **May** **2017.**

  
  


“I don’t think this is a good idea, Y/N,” Steve said as you packed your go-bag a few days later. He and Sam had come back to the US for a small recon mission and stopped by on their way back to Austria. Out of all your teammates, Sam had been the most reluctant to leave you behind in Missouri. He wanted to stop by and apologize for not fighting harder to have you remain in Austria. You forgave him readily. Sam had been there for you when you were at your lowest after Bucky left; you had grown close over the past few months.

“I’m not exactly asking for your permission, Rogers,” you said curtly. You were still angry with Steve for his decision to leave you at The Homestead, but not as much as you had been. Still, it didn’t mean you were exactly happy to see him. “I’m just letting you know where I’ll be.”

“At least let me come with you,” Sam said.

You smiled, “You’re too easily recognized, Bird Brain. Everyone in New York knows your face. Besides, the team needs you.” Sam leaned against the doorframe, pouting slightly.

Steve shook his head, “It’s too risky.”

You could not figure out why Steve treated you so differently from the others. Pietro and Wanda were just as green as you were when it came to “avenging.” He always seemed to underestimate you and your skills. And, he was harsher on you when you made a mistake. You sighed as you aggressively folded your shirts and stuffed them into your bag. “I got by for two years without you and the team,” you said, punctuating your words with harsh folds of your laundry. “I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Bucky was with you,” Steve countered. “You’ll be heading to one of the most populous cities in the US alone.”

“I have super-friends outside the team,” you said nonchalantly. You smiled, “Good friends. They won’t turn on me – they’ll have my back.”

Steve and Sam looked at you intently, the curiosity shining behind their eyes.

“And before you ask,” you added, “no, I am not telling you who they are.”

“How do you know they haven’t signed The Accords?” Steve challenged.

You snorted condescendingly at his suggestion, “Trust me, they haven’t and never will. If I know them, they’ve covered their tracks so well they aren’t on Secretary Ross’ radar.” You began to pack your weapons; Sam made his way around your bedroom, gathering your scattered weaponry. He handed the weapons parts to you with a smile, the gesture silently voicing his stance on your decision to visit New York.

“I still don’t like it,” the super-soldier said as he frowned slightly at Sam who passed you your laptop.

“And you don’t have to,” you said, taking the computer equipment from the airman with a small nod of gratitude. Finishing your packing, you turned to face Steve once more. “I have to do something, Steve. I can’t just sit here and do nothing anymore.” You ran your hand through your hair, “Look, I know I’m not the best team player. Hackers are loners by nature. But that doesn’t lessen my desire to help in any way I possibly can.” Grabbing Hunter’s leather jacket, you shrugged it over your shoulders. “My super-friend has pull with some pretty high-profile attorneys; all who owe them one favor or another. If we can get ahead of this, then maybe there won’t be a trial at all.”

Steve studied you carefully, his sharp blue eyes flicking down to your overstuffed go-bag and around at the cleanliness of the room. “So, if you’re only going to meet with lawyers, then why are you packing like you’re not gonna be back here for a while?”

“I don’t know how long it’s gonna take,” you defended, twisting Hunter’s oath ring around your wrist. “I’ve never had the pleasure of being involved in a high-profile murder trial before.” You shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of the two men.

“Bullshit,” Sam called your bluff.

You rolled your eyes as he smirked at you. “Okay...I may have some other things to look into aside from meeting with lawyers, but honestly, it’s none of your business.”

Steve huffed in frustration and crossed his arms. He lifted an eyebrow questioningly, not backing down. The pair of you shared many similar traits. Both of you were stubborn, reckless, and just wanted to do what you believed was right. You guessed that’s why you had butted heads so much on missions. Despite the tension between you both, you truly wanted to make things right with Steve.

“If it makes you feel any better,” you placated, offering an olive branch, “it’s probably something that will be able to help Bucky should Shuri be unable to make good on her promises.” Steve made a move to say something. “Not that I expect her to,” you interjected hurriedly, “I just figured we needed a back-up plan.”

Steve sighed, looking down at the floor in defeat for a moment and then back to you with a small smile. “Bucky’s gonna kill me for letting you go off on your own, ya know.”

You shook your head with a laugh, grateful that your request for peace had been accepted. Swiping the cellphone Clint had given you from the bedside table, you moved out of the small bedroom. Stopping next to the Captain, you placed your hand on his shoulder for support as you rose on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Only if he finds out,” you said with a smirk as you squeezed past him and down the stairs.

“Will you at least let us give you a ride,” Sam called, bounding down the stairs to catch up with you. “It’s a 16-hour drive.”

  
  


  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


  
  


**Avengers Quinjet. Somewhere over the East Coast. May 2017.**

  
  


_The soft breeze blew the tender blades of grass_ _and small edelweiss flowers_ _tickling_ _your_ _ankles that extended beyond the borders of the blanket you laid out._ _You_ _sat back against Bucky’s chest;_ _h_ _is arm wrapped around you, holding you close._ _His nose brushed the top of your head as he every so often kissed your temple._ _Your hand rested lightly on his knee aimlessly tracing lazy patterns._

 _The addition of five roommates in the chalet had been somewhat overwhelming,_ _especially since the two of you had been on your own for the past two years_ _. So, you and Bucky decided to hike up the mountain using a hidden trail the two of you had discovered not long after you first arrived at the safe-house_ to escape the craziness your home had become. You had to all but threaten Sam and Steve from joining you. _Thankfully,_ _Natasha understood that you and Bucky needed some alone time so, she came up with a last-minute chore_ _that absolutely required their involvement and needed their attention as soon as possible_ _. She_ _tossed a wink in your direction_ _as you and Bucky left out, and you mouthed a silent “Thank you.”_

 _The hidden overlook rested just above the treeline, offering an unobstructed view of the eastern side of the valley and the mountains beyond. It had quickly become one of your favorite spots; up here, you and Bucky were the only two people in the world._ _Worries, fears, responsibilities_ _,_ _and strife faded away the instant your gaze rested on the view before you._

 _“No matter how many times we hike up here,” you whispered, “this_ _is still_ _one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.”_

_“Yeah, it is,” Bucky said. You turned to look at him and noticed he wasn’t staring at the view._

_You felt a slight heat rise to your cheeks. You looked away quickly with a shake of your head. “You’re such a dork,” you giggled._

_Bucky’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle. His warm hand gently turned your face back to look at him. “But, you love me,” he whispered. His lips brushing over your own as he tilted your head up._

_“_ _More than my own life,” you breathed. Your eyes fluttered closed as your lips pressed against his. The pad of Bucky’s thumb stroked your jaw as the rest of his fingers threaded through your hair, holding you fast to him. Your noses brushed as your lips fervently moved against his, deepening the kiss. Making out with Bucky was one of your favorite pastimes. If it went on long enough it was always bound to lead to something more and that looked to be the case here. He smiled as you turned to face him fully. You moved to sit in his lap with your legs wrapped around his waist. You kissed the tip of his nose before capturing your mouth with his, your fingers twining themselves in his hair. He moaned at the soft tugs, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him._ _You took a sharp breath through your nose as your core pressed against his growing bulge._

 _Bucky smiled as he kissed you, eager for you to make more of those sounds he loved so much. He kissed his way to your cheek and then down your ne_ _ck_ _. You sighed softly as he_ _laid open-mouthed kisses_ _at the sensitive spot where your shoulder meets your neck. You unbuttoned his flannel shirt_ _and pushed it off his shoulders_ _, running your hands along the expanse of his chest and down his abs. Sometimes you struggled to believe that this man was yours and you were his. At times, it didn’t seem real – you worried one day you would wake up to find this had all been a dream._ _You’d almost lost him in Siberia, and the thought of living in a world without James Buchanan Barnes terrified you._ _Who were you if he wasn’t by your side?_

 _As if sensing your anxiety, Bucky removed his lips from your neck and rested his forehead against yours_ _._ _His_ _stormy_ _-blue eyes held yours for a moment before he spoke, “Voi fi mereu aici. Îți promit.”_ (“I'll always be here. I promise you.”)

 _You nodded and swallowed the lump growing in your throat_ _at his sincerity_ _; the realization that someone truly, madly, deeply loved you crashed over you._ _This was real – it wasn’t a dream._ _A lone tear escaped the corner of your eye, but you smiled with a light laugh._ _Bucky smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Your arms twined around his neck. “Inima mea îți aparține,”_ _you whispered._ (“My heart is yours.”)

 _“Ești dragostea vieții mele,”_ _he replied, wiping the tear away with his thumb._ (“You are the love of my life.”)

 _You pulled him to you for a kiss; his tongue slide past your part lips effortlessly. You sighed against his mouth, your hands trailing down his chest to the hem of your shirt. Pulling back slightly, you tugged the shirt_ _along with your bralette_ _over your head and tossed it to the side. Bucky pushed your hair out of your face and captured your lips, their passionate dance beginning once more._

 _Bucky’s fingers spread wide at the small of your back, anchoring you to him. His mouth moved from your lips quickly down your neck to your chest; your arched your back against him allowing him easy access. He nipped and sucked the tops of your breasts, drawing red marks up to your skin. He knew how much you loved being marked by him;_ you drew your bottom lip in between your teeth at the thought of several small purple and blue bruises that would be scattered across your chest tomorrow morning.

 _He swirled his tongue around one nipple for a few moments before drawing it into his mouth sucking hard. You gasped at the sensation; your nails dug into his shoulders. You ground your hips into him as he proceeded to lavish the same attention to the other nipple. He hummed in satisfaction at the sounds he could draw from you. The vibrations thrummed deliciously against your pert_ nub. “Mmmm, James,” you breathed.

 _Bucky pulled away from your breast and kissed his way up to your lips once more. “Da, Y/N,” he replied against your lips._ (“Yes, Y/N.”) _You kissed him once and then pulled away to fumble with his belt and the buttons on his jeans. He chuckled, moving to sit up in a kneeling position, “Credeam că n-o să întrebi niciodată.”_ (“Thought you’d never ask.”)

_You made quick work of the fastenings of his jeans pushed them along with his underwear down to his knees, allowing his cock to escape its confines into your awaiting hand. He did the same to your leggings and underwear. Reveling in the sight of the slick at the apex of your thighs. Trailing the back of his knuckle down your side, he drew goosebumps to the surface of your skin as his thumb slid in between your folds circling your clit lightly._

_Your head fell against his shoulder; your moans unrestrained. You continued to pump his cock, eliciting soft grunts from him as your thumb ran over the tip with each pass._

_After a few moments, Bucky laid back pulling you on top of him._ _The pair of you kicked off your pants rather ungracefully, chuckling at the bumbling mess you must have looked like. You brushed his kisses along his collarbone as your core hovered just slightly above his erection. He laughed and squirmed a bit when tendrils of your hair brushed against_ _the_ _skin_ of his chest and shoulders.

 _Slow_ _ly_ _you pushed yourself up and took his member in your hand, brushing the tip along your folds with a sly smirk. Bucky looked up at you; the smile never left his face as he watched you slowly sink on his cock._ _Feeling every inch of him,_ _his_ _name tumbled from_ _your_ _lips once he was fully sheathed inside you._ _His hand found your hip and his thumb began to trace light circles as you rolled your hips against his. You tugged and pulled gently at your breasts, rolling your sensitive nipples between your fingertips. Breathy moans blew past your lips at your ministrations._

 _Bucky nipped his lower lip as he stared up at you with hooded eyes. Suddenly jealous of your fingertips, Bucky sat up, pulling your legs around his waist still fully engulfed in your heat. His hand replaced yours as you gripped his shoulders for support as you_ _rocked against him._ _The_ _tip_ _of his_ _cock dragged across the sweet spot inside you deliciously with each thrust._ _You tilted your head back with a moan;_ _stars dotted the edges of your vision_ _. Bucky’s hand traveled down your stomach and in between your joined bodies. His thumb found your clit easily and swiped it firmly back and forth with his thumb. You cried out once more at the added sensation_ _s_ _; your hands fisted in his hair._

 _“Tipa pentru mine, păpușă. Strigă-mi numele,” Bucky whispered huskily against your lips._ (“Scream for me, doll. Scream my name.”) _He captured your lips in a fierce kiss, all teeth and tongue as you rocked against him. The pleasure that pooled in your belly rose with each thrust; each swipe of his thumb_ _sent_ _you further into oblivion._ _Over and over,_ _cries of his name grew_ _louder and louder as the symphony of pleasure reached a crescendo. With one final deep thrust, you unraveled with his name on your lips. Bucky kissed you deeply, swallowing your_ _moans_ _as his climax overtook him. With a few more thrusts, he spilled into you, calling out your name._

 _You clung to him tightly as both of your movements slowed to a stop, trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You pulled away to look at him. With_ _his chestnut_ _strands of hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, a red flush spanning across his cheeks, and his eyes blown with lust, he never looked more handsome._ _And, he was all yours._

 _You took his face delicately in your hands and pulled him to you for a gentle kiss. “Te iubesc,” you whispered._ (“I love you.”)

 _“Ştiu,” he replied, kissing you softly once more._ (“I know.”)

  
  


“Earth to Y/N!” A voice pulled you harshly from your reverie. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks as you fiddled with Bucky’s dog tags around your neck, thinking about how you longed to see them dangling from Bucky’s neck as he planked above you.

Sam plopped down on the pilot’s couch next to you as Steve flew the jet towards New York. “You good?” he asked, smirking at the blush not so subtly creeping across your face.

“Yeah,” you said, trying to keep the embarrassment out of your voice. “Just lost in thought...memories...”

Sam chortled, “Must’a been some damn good memories.”

“Shall I describe them to you?” you said, turning to him with a wry brow and a sly grin.

Sam gagged audibly. “Nope, I do not need to know the particulars of what you and Skywalker do in the bedroom.” He gesticulated wildly as if to wave the unwanted thoughts away. “No matter how many times I’ ve heard you two goin’ at it.” He gave an exaggerated shudder.

“Aw, you don’t wanna know about what he does with–“

“Stop,” Steve called from the cockpit. “Buck’s my brother. I do not want or need those images in my head.”

“Ya nasty,” Sam added.

You blew a raspberry at the pair of them, “Prudes.”

Sam opened his mouth to counter when your phone rang. Pulling the phone from your boot, you moved away from the cockpit to take the call. You had notified Jessica you were headed to New York and needed a place to crash. She was more than happy to have you. Well, as happy as Jessica Jones could get anyway.

You had heard about Trish’s imprisonment at the Raft for her vigilante activities. She had broken The Accords and paid the price, blinded by her belief that she was in the right and everyone else was wrong. A situation you were all too familiar with. You figured that’s why Jessica readily accepted you visiting unannounced for an unspecified length of time. Whether or not she was willing to admit it, she needed the support of a close friend who knew both her and Trish well.

“Hey,” you answered. “Yeah...Brooklyn Navy Yard...I’ll be there in about an hour...Uh-huh...” You watched as Sam eyed you curiously, and Steve strained slightly to hear the half of the conversation on the other end of the phone call. You turned the volume down on the phone with a few clicks, noting Steve’s slight pout. You shook your head with a smile. “No, it’s just me...Yeah, it’s a long story...I’ll explain later...Mhmm...great...I’ll meet you there...Thanks again...Oh, fuck off...See you soon.” You snapped the phone shut and tucked it into your boot before moving back to your seat.

“Super-friend?” Sam asked, hoping to pry more information out of you before you landed.

“The very same,” you replied not elaborating any further.

“Oh, come on! At least tell me what makes them super,” Sam begged.

You shook your head, “They would prefer to be left out of any big-time superhero entanglements.” Sam crossed his arms and pouted. “Bucky knows their powers; he’s met them before.” You smirked wickedly, knowing that being left out of the loop would drive Sam batshit crazy.

“Y/N, don’t start,” Steve warned as he caught onto your scheme.

“What?” you asked innocently.

He huffed in your direction, insinuating you knew exactly what he was talking about. You only smiled at Sam’s face of discontent. “We are almost to New York. Where am I dropping you off?”

“Brooklyn Navy Yard. You should be able to land there and take off without being noticed,” you said, standing up to make sure you had everything packed in your go-bag.

“We gonna get to meet your friend?” he asked, nonchalantly. You shook your head. You knew Steve was just a curious as Sam; he was just discreet about it for the most part.

“Nope,” you replied. “I’ll be meeting them nearby – after the two of you have taken off. You can’t afford to be getting caught, so I would suggest you leave as soon as I am off the jet.”

Steve sighed, “Next time then.” Sam grumbled incoherently.

“Both of you are incorrigible.” you chuckled, watching the pair of them fall into easy conversation both of them smiling and laughing throughout as you checked over your gear. At that moment, you almost reconsidered Sam’s offer to join you; you had missed your teammates over the past few months. However, this was something you knew you needed to do on your own, and they understood that despite their initial reservations. You silently thanked the universe for giving you friends who had your back no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> Have I mentioned how much I love the Bartons? Because I really love the Bartons. I modeled Cooper and the Reader's dynamics after my and my baby brother's relationship.
> 
> Also the "truly, madly, deeply" quote was inspired by something my husband and I have said to each other since we first got together. In fact, our first dance at our wedding was to a cover of "Truly Madly Deeply."
> 
> Wooo to seeing Jessica Jones again! Can you guess which lawyers you are going to meet with? Honestly, I'm really excited about the next few chapters. 
> 
> As always, please comment, leave kudos, and share with friends if you love the story. 
> 
> Also (shameless self-promo), I recently posted an Avengers one-shot book that I would love for y'all to take a gander at. Lemme know what you think. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> P.S. Beginning quote from "It's over When It's Over" by Falling in Reverse. (They are literally one of my favorite bands at the moment.)


	10. Chapter Nine

  
  
  


**_“The world is full of evil and lies and pain and death, and you can’t hide from it. You can only face it. The question is, when do you, how do you respond? What do you become?”_ **

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


**New York City, New York. May 2017.**

You waved goodbye as the Quinjet engines fired up. Sam gave you a thumbs up and Steve saluted you as the hatch closed. He had also given you a letter and a cellphone for Tony Stark in case you were able to get it to him somehow. A sad smile graced your lips as you watched the jet disappear with your friends into the overcast sky. Being around Sam and Steve once more reminded you how much you missed being a part of the team. But, you had a job to do. Slinging your go-bag over your shoulder you made your way to The Rogers Tenement Building. The place where your and Bucky’s partnership solidified.

A familiar figure in an iconic black leather jacket leaned up against the side of the old apartment building turned museum. They stood up on your approach, “I see you haven’t been staying out of trouble.”

“Now, that’s the pot calling the kettle black, dontcha think?” you quipped.

The raven-haired beauty smirked and held her arms out. You embraced her in a quick hug, “How are you, Jess?”

“Just peachy,” she deadpanned. “You?”

“The same.”

Jessica nodded and pulled a bottle of whiskey out of her jacket. “You wanna talk about it?” She twisted off the cap and took a swig then offered you the bottle.

You shook your head, screwing the cap back on the bottle. “Sure, but let’s get back to your apartment first. New York’s not New Orleans, and I can’t risk getting arrested for public intoxication.

Jessica shrugged and then nodded her head in the direction of Trish’s old Lexus sedan, “Come on.”

Two glasses of whiskey later, you explained everything that had transpired since you last saw your friend outside Luke’s bar in the East Village. Jessica sat and listened intently. She seemed to be grateful to have something else to focus on other than her own intrusive thoughts.

“Damn, and I thought I had a rough these past three years,” Jessica said, downing the rest of her whiskey.

You felt the corner of your mouth tick upward in a slight smile. “By the way, I never did thank you for what you did about my sister’s case.”

Jessica waved your gratitude away with her hand, “Don’t worry about it.”

You sighed and ran your finger around the rim of the glass, “What happened to Trish?” you asked, staring into the amber-colored liquid. “I saw the video you posted on the New York Bulletin’s website.” Your eyes flicked up to meet hers.

Jessica was silent for a moment. She took a giant swig from the whiskey bottle before speaking again. “After the whole cluster with Kilgrave’s return, she underwent some experimental procedures like the ones they performed on me when I was a kid.” You nodded. Jessica has emailed you a few times asking you to look into various people connected to her now late mother and the laboratory group conducting illegal human experimentation. She sighed, pushing her hair behind her ears, “She wanted to help people and thought she needed powers to do it.” You frowned at the sentiment. “Somewhere along the way, she became the bad guy.”

You sighed downing the rest of your whiskey and held your glass out to her for a refill. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

Jessica nodded as she obliged you, “That it is.”

“I can understand her motivations though,” you mused. She stared at you with a raised eyebrow. “She was desperate to protect those she loves.” You sipped your whiskey. “I’m the same and so are you.” A look of understanding played across your friend’s face; she slightly nodded. “We just have to be mindful that our selfless intentions don’t turn into selfish acts.”

A few beats of silence passed between the pair of you before you spoke again, “So which hot-shot lawyer you have on retainer am I meeting tomorrow?”

Jessica smiled and finished the bottle of whiskey, “The best,” she said.

~*~*~*~

**Nelson, Murdock and Page. Hell’s Kitchen. May 2017.**

You stood in front of a busy local butcher shop named Nelson’s Meats, glancing down at the directions Jessica had given you. You looked up at the street number painted on the glass above the door then back to the paper once more. “What the hell?” you muttered under your breath, adjusting the strap of your laptop bag over your shoulder.

“’Scuse me?” a man’s voice said from behind you. “Are you lost?”

You turned to face a well-built man wearing a made-to-measure, charcoal suit with chocolate-brown hair and red-lensed glasses who smiled in your direction. “Uh...kinda,” you answered, nonchalantly scratching the side of your face. The nanomask, while handy, could be incredibly itchy at times, especially on muggy days such as this one. But, being back in New York, you didn’t want to risk the chance of the CCTV cameras catching a glimpse of your face should they be monitored. “I’m looking for Nelson, Murdock and Page Law Firm, but I think my friend may have given me the wrong address.”

The man shook his head with a light chuckle and stepped to stand next to you. A distinct tapping sound caught your attention. You looked down to see a white cane tapping the ground in front of the man. You recognized it as a tool people who were visually-impaired or blind used to get around. You looked back up at the man who stood next to you and noticed his unfocused stare. “No, you’re in the right place,” he said, gesturing upward with his cane. “The office is located in the apartment above the shop. We should really invest in a new sign.” He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. “This isn’t the first time this has happened.”

_We?_

The man gestured for you to follow him into the alleyway off to the side of the shop. He pressed a button on the intercom and waited for the door to buzz open. “I’m Matt by the way. Matt Murdock.” He turned to you and stuck out his hand.

You were surprised that he knew exactly where you were standing. You took his hand in yours and shook it. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Murdock,” you replied.

_So that’s what he meant by we._

Matt smiled, “And you are?”

Before you could answer the doorbell buzzed signaling the door had unlocked. Matt gestured for you to follow him up the stairs. Again his impeccable situational awareness surprised you as he took the steps easily, hardly using his cane.

“Oh, you can take the mask off, by the way,” he said as the door shut behind you.

“What?” you asked. How did he know you were wearing a mask?

“The nanomask,” Matt replied. “Don’t worry. Any friend of Jessica Jones is a friend of ours. We won’t tell anyone we saw you.”

“I’m sure attorney-client privilege also plays a role as well,” you quipped.

Matt laughed as he neared the top of the stairs, “I suppose it does.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” you said as both of you reached the landing, “how did you know I was wearing a mask?”

“I could hear it,” Matt said simply, opening the door to reveal a small apartment turned law office. You stood in the doorway for a moment dumbfounded by his statement. Was he enhanced too? “Foggy, Karen,” he called, hanging his cane on the nearby coat rack. Quickly, you deactivated the nanomask and pulled it from your face. “Our 10 o’clock is here.” Matt strolled toward the large conference table in the middle of the room. You carefully tucked your mask in your laptop bag just as the other two lawyers entered the room.

“You must be Y/N L/N.” A stocky man with long sandy hair crossed the room toward you, hand outstretched, “I’m Franklin Nelson, but everyone calls me Foggy.” His smile was warm as you shook his hand.

A slim blonde woman approached you next, “It’s nice to meet you, Miss L/N. I’m Karen Page.”

You nodded to each of them in greeting, “Pleasure to meet all of you. Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice.”

Foggy shook his head, “It’s no problem at all.”

Matt gestured to the conference table, “Shall we get started?” The four of you took your seats. You placed your laptop bag on the floor between your legs while Karen and Foggy produced legal pads and pens to take notes. Once everyone was settled, Matt turned to you, “What can we help you with today?”

You gave a sharp sigh through your nose and picked at your cuticles, suddenly nervous to tell them about Bucky and the upcoming trial. “How much did Jess tell you?” you asked, trying to gauge how much information they had been provided with beforehand.

Matt shrugged, “Just that you and your significant other had recently encountered some legal trouble regarding the Sokovia Accords.”

“A gross violation of civil rights by the way,” Foggy commented with a shake of his head. “I’m surprised the US actually ratified it.”

“Not to mention discriminatory,” Matt added.

You relaxed a bit at their statements and nodded. “That’s a gross oversimplification, but nonetheless correct," you said. "How much do you know about Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes?”

“The Winter Soldier?” Karen asked. You stiffened at the name HYDRA had given him and narrowed your eyes. Matt and Foggy shot her cutting looks. “Sorry,” she apologized, putting her hands up in front of her chest defensively. “Just asking for clarification.”

You took a deep breath to compose yourself. It was only natural for others to be curious. But after three years on the run, it was natural for you to be defensive. “He used to go by that name, yes,” you stated.

“He was the sniper for The Howling Commandos, right?” Foggy asked, somewhat excitedly. “Best friend of Captain Steve Rogers?”

You nodded, “Yes, the same.”

“Last I heard, Barnes, Rogers, along with half of the Avengers were in the wind after what happened in Vienna a year ago,” Matt said.

“They still are,” you said, “Up until recently, I’ve been with them.”

“I knew your name sounded familiar,” Karen exclaimed. “You fought Iron Man at the airport in Berlin, right?”

You nodded, “I did.”

“So what do you need our help with?” Matt asked.

“Recently, it was announced that murder charges against James had been filed for the deaths of Howard and Maria Stark in 1991. Tony Stark is apparently spearheading the campaign to bring his parents’ killer to justice. I need to know if it’s possible to get the case dismissed.”

Foggy and Karen balked. “That's a tall order,” Foggy said.

Matt’s expression remained neutral; he touched his fingertips together contemplatively. “Not impossible given the right circumstances.” Karen and Foggy sat quietly digesting this idea. “On what grounds should the judge dismiss the case? Or the prosecution drop the charge?”

You steeled yourself, knowing convincing others of what you wholeheartedly believed to be true would be difficult. “Overwhelming evidence that James was used by HYDRA as a puppet. Kept as a prisoner of war and brainwashed to act as their assassin since 1945.”

“So you’re saying he did all of the things they are accusing him of?” Karen asked. “He killed Stark’s parents? The Attack of the Triskelion? JFK?”

You squeezed your hands into fists in your lap, “Yes, but not willingly,” you said through clenched teeth.

The three lawyers sat silent, unsure how to proceed.

You sighed lightly, “It would be better if I just showed you.” You reached down into your laptop bag. “May I?”

Foggy nodded, “Please by all means.”

Pulling out your laptop, you brought up your Winter Soldier file. Choosing the clip of the mission briefing for obtaining Howard’s version of the super-soldier serum, you turned the screen around and pressed play.

Karen and Foggy leaned forward, taking notes. They watched intently as the cryo-freeze pod was deactivated and the HYDRA agents dragged Bucky from it, throwing him in the Memory Suppression Machine. You jumped slightly as you heard the electricity from the faceplates crackle before they attached themselves to Bucky’s head. A lump in your throat grew and tears pricked your eyes as your love’s agonized screams filled the office space. It was all you could do to keep your seat; as many times as you had listened to videos such as this one, it didn’t make hearing it any easier. Karen put her hand over her mouth in shock; her eyes went glassy. A frown grew on Matt’s face as he listened carefully.

“My God,” Foggy whispered in disbelief; his eyes glued to the screen.

After a few moments, the Russian colonel, whom you now knew as Vasily Karpov, began to recite the 10 trigger words. As the last two words were spoken, the Memory Suppression Machine deactivated. You could hear Bucky’s gasps and sharp inhales as he tried to fight The Soldier’s programming, knowing full well of the futility but nevertheless trying desperately to break free. You heard Colonel Karpov say the final command, “Доброе утро, Солдат,” (Good morning, Soldier,”) and Bucky’s slight hesitation before his reply, “Я готов отвечать.” (“Ready to comply.”) Turning the screen back toward you, you pressed pause and waited for the slew of questions.

“What exactly did we just witness?” Matt asked.

“When not needed for a mission, HYDRA kept James cryogenically frozen. In my research, I discovered a 20-year gap between when he was initially taken after he fell from the Schnellzug EB912 train and his first official HYDRA mission – the assassination of President John F. Kennedy in 1963. During that time, HYDRA wiped all of James’ memories and instituted this form of conditioning involving 10 Russian words said in a particular order. To further his compliance, they would also wipe his memories before and after each mission, using the machine you just saw.”

Unlocking an encrypted folder, you pulled up the blueprints to the wretched machine and showed it to the three lawyers. “They called it the Memory Suppression Machine. When his talents, for lack of a better term, were needed they would unfreeze him, wipe his mind and say the words. Upon completion of a mission, he would be wiped again and placed back into cryo-freeze.”

“The words just cause him to flip a switch?” asked Karen. “He just becomes this other person?”

You nodded, your hand absentmindedly went to your throat, “More or less.”

“Where did you get access to these files?” Foggy asked, flicking through the blueprints you had pulled up.

“When HYDRA attacked the Triskelion in 2014, Agent Natasha Romanoff dumped all of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s as well as HYDRA’s confidential files onto the internet in order to expose who they were. Many of the files came with layers upon layers of encryption, but when I was younger, I was a black hat hacker. So, I am very experienced when it comes to decoding files such as these. Let’s just say it wasn’t the first foray in decrypting classified documents from S.H.I.E.L.D. database. Using my own decryption software and thousands of hours of analysis over the past three years, I have hundreds of documents and photos and thousands of hours of video footage. All detailing The Winter Soldier’s exploits as well as how HYDRA kept him under control dating all the way back to the Cold War.”

Foggy’s mouth hung open in shock, “Impressive.”

You smiled, “Thanks. I can email you a link to an encrypted dropbox should you decide to take the case. Although, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.”

“We’ll do it,” Matt said readily. He seemed emotionally invested in Bucky’s fight to reclaim his identity. You studied him a moment, wondering why that was.

“Absolutely,” Foggy added.

“Are you sure about this Matt?” Karen asked hesitantly.

“Positive,” he said resolutely. Karen’s mouth sat in a straight line. “You can sit this one out if you want to, Karen,” Matt said. “This isn’t going to be a simple murder trial. We will be challenging the very essence of The Accords. Saying this is a lot of evidence to go through is an understatement. We will need all hands on deck for this one.”

Thinking it over for a moment, Karen nodded, “Okay...I’m in.”

Matt smiled and turned back to you, “Where is James now?”

Despite the promise of attorney-client privilege, you remained hesitant to reveal Bucky’s location, considering T’Challa trusted you to keep Wakanda’s true nature to yourself until he was ready to open the country to the rest of the world. However, the three lawyers before you deserved to know what Shuri was attempting to accomplish. “He’s back in cryo-freeze in an undisclosed location.” Matt made a move to say something, but you continued, “A friend of ours is trying to come up with an algorithm to completely remove HYDRA’s Winter Soldier programming from his subconscious. They’ve asked me to keep their identity and location a secret for now, especially with the Accords in effect.

Matt frowned but nodded in understanding, “How long will he be under?”

“I honestly don’t know,” you answered honestly. “They want to make sure they have the right algorithm and ensure that it will remove everything associated with the conditioning. They give me regular updates; last time I heard from them they were still in the testing phase.”

Karen tapped her pen against her legal pad, her knuckle rested in front of her lips as she pondered the information. “If they can successfully remove the programming with the algorithm, the results can be used as more concrete evidence in the eventual trial,” she offered.

Matt and Foggy nodded in agreement. “That also gives us more time to siphon through Y/N’s files for solid pieces of evidence,” Foggy added.

“When is this all set to begin?” Matt asked.

“The first status conference is set for early July,” you answered.

Matt sighed, “If he doesn’t show, he’ll get hit with Contempt of Court.”

You chuckled lightly, remembering the times you threatened the JCTC agents in Berlin if they dared harm Bucky in any way. “Eh,” you shrugged, “what’s one more charge?”

Karen eyed you curiously. Foggy shrugged, “She has a point though.”

Matt chuckled with a smile. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a good case.”

“I hate to bring up this elephant in the room,” Karen said thoughtfully. “But what’s stopping the UN from just taking Barnes into custody as soon as he steps foot in that courtroom?”

Foggy’s and Matt’s smiles disappeared.

“Stark has some heavy pull within the UN, and the Secretary of State, practically in his back pocket,” you said, leaning back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest. “He’ll have his vengeance, so to speak. He wants James and his friends to feel the pain he felt the night his parents were murdered.”

The three lawyers nodded. The primal need to take revenge was just human nature.

Still, the thought of this trial being nothing other than a trap had crossed your mind once or twice.

_“Only one way to find out.”_

~*~*~*~

**Avengers Tower. Manhattan. May 2017.**

Raindrops pattered against the black nylon of your umbrella as you stared up at the giant “A” that graced the side of the imposing modern skyscraper. You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves before heading inside. You didn’t wear the nanomask today; there was no point.

After you met with Bucky’s new lawyers, you reached out to the one person you could think of that may be sympathetic to your cause. You and Maria Hill often worked together at S.H.I.E.L.D. You would report to her regarding any high-level intel you analyzed and offered your perspective on it when asked. Over the years, you had gained a hefty amount of respect for one another. She wasn’t too keen on the idea of the Accords in the slightest but had signed them just the same to keep the peace and to act as Fury’s informant. After much convincing, she managed to book you a meeting with Tony Stark.

You honestly had been surprised when Tony agreed to meet you with the promise he would not immediately hand you over to the authorities. Still, it didn’t mean it wasn’t a trap, but Maria seemed convinced his promise was genuine. You kept a gun strapped to your ankle and various knives hidden on your person just in case.

You entered the Tower without so much a sideways glance from the receptionists and security staff. After a short elevator ride, a ping of a bell announced your arrival at the Avengers’ living quarters. The common area was spacious complete with a full kitchen and bar. A grand piano stood in the corner by a wall of windows overlooking the misty metropolis below. Like a moth to a flame, you walked over to it and ran your hand over the smooth keys.

_A Steinway and Sons. Stark spares no expense, does he?_

Checking your watch, you noted you had a few minutes until your meeting. You slowly sat down and played a few scales to get a feel for the piano. The notes from one of your original compositions you had written with Bucky in mind floated throughout the room, instantly lifting your spirits. Engrossed in your playing, you didn’t register the ping of the elevator.

“Oh hey, Miss L/N.” a young voice called out, “I didn’t know you could play.”

Startled, you missed a few notes and turned. A skinny teenage boy with dark hair and eyes smiled at you. He adjusted the book-bag slung over his shoulder and his t-shirt read Midtown School of Science and Technology. He walked toward you. You had heard his voice before. “Spider-Boy?” you asked, getting up from the piano to meet him. “From the airport in Berlin? Right?”

“Spider-Man, actually,” the boy said, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “But, my real name is Peter. Peter Parker.” He stuck his hand out for you to shake.

You took his hand, surprised by its sticky texture, and shook it. “Nice to meet you, Peter Parker. It’s nice to put a face and name to the voice. Call me Y/N. How do you know my name by the way?”

The tips of Peter’s ears turned slightly pink as he smiled at you, “Oh, F.R.I.D.A.Y. told me you were here when I was on my way up. I didn’t know anyone by that name, but when I saw your face, I recognized you from Germany.

You cocked an eyebrow, “F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Yeah, she’s an AI,” Peter said excitedly. “It stands for Female Replacement Intelligent Digital Assistant Youth. She runs almost everything around here.” He put out his arms and gestured around the room.

You looked around the room, “Ah, well, glad to see you made it out of Germany in one piece. Stark’s been treating you well I see.”

Peter nodded voraciously, “Oh yeah! Mr. Stark’s awesome!” He smiled widely. “He’s got this killer lab set up for me to work on my projects. I’ve come up with so many new gadgets and perfected my webbing. Sometimes, he comes in to observe or help me out. It’s been great! He’s-”

You chuffed lightly, interrupting his rambling, “Nice to know he isn’t completely heartless.”

“Well...I...uh...” Peter stuttered, suddenly self-conscious and uncomfortable.

You sighed and looked at the floor slightly ashamed, crossing your arms, “Sorry...Stark and I aren’t exactly on the best of terms at the moment.”

“No, I get it,” Peter nodded, biting his lower lip, “I’m still not totally sure what exactly happened in Berlin.”

You shook your head. “It’s nothing you need to worry over, Pete,” you said with an apologetic smile.

He nodded resignedly, “Okay.” A beat of silence passed before he spoke again, “Why are you here then?” He held his hands out in front of his chest, “If...If...you don’t mind me asking?”

You rubbed your forehead tiredly, “To try and convince the most stubborn man on the planet to see things from a different point of view.” You checked your watch. “And, he is 15 minutes late.”

“I can see where he is for you!” Peter said eagerly. He looked up at the ceiling, “F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Yes, Mr. Parker?” replied a disembodied female voice with a lilting Irish accent. You jumped slightly at how close she sounded.

“Will you tell me where Mr. Stark is, please?”

“The boss is down in the main lab working on one of his many new projects,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied, “Should I tell him you’re looking for him?”

The teenage boy nodded, “Yes, please. Tell him Miss Y/N is here to see him. Thanks!”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Parker.”

“Oh and F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Yes, Mr. Parker?”

“If he ignores the request, tell him I set my lab on fire.” You shot him a confused look. He smiled as wickedly as an awkward extremely polite teenager could.

“Will do.”

“Something tells me that has happened before,” you said.

“Once,” Peter said, holding up one finger, “and it was an accident. I swear.”

“I tried to warn him and he didn’t listen,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. quipped.

A horrified look passed across the boy’s feature before being replaced by an angry blush that spread across his cheeks, “Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” he said, embarrassed.

You futilely covered your mouth with your hand to try and hide your laughter.

Peter smiled sheepishly, “Anyway, I...I should get on to the lab.” He pointed in the direction of an adjoining hallway, “Got a science project due tomorrow.”

You nodded in understanding, “It was nice to meet you, Pete, officially.” You smiled warmly at the boy, taking an immediate liking to him. He nodded and turned to go. “Hang on, gimme your phone,” you said, palm outstretched. Awkwardly, Peter shoved his hand in his pocket, pulled out his cell phone, and handed it to you. “If you ever need anything or if Stark becomes too much of a handful,” you said, creating a new contact and typing in your email address, “you can contact me, okay?” Your voice laced with sincerity. “I seriously doubt Stark has all the answers all the time.” You handed the phone back to him.

Peter smiled, pocketing the phone, “I will. Thanks, Miss Y/N.” He began to walk backward towards the lab, “I’ll see you later.”

You gave him a small wave, “See ya ‘round, Spider-Man.” A small grin spread across his face as he nodded to you once before disappearing down the hallway.

You sat at the piano once more. Might as well make use of the time you had with the Steinway. You hadn’t played on one of these since your college days. Your portable keyboard had nothing on the clear percussive yet lyrical notes produced by an actual grand piano. You allowed the notes to fill your senses as you began to play one of your grandfather’s favorites. The soft lilting notes of “Try to Remember” slowly began to fill the room. Once more lost in the music, you didn’t notice the billionaire enter the room. Tony leaned up against the kitchen island and watched you play for a moment before speaking. “My mom used to play that song all the time.”

You stilled your hands’ movements and turned to face the man who irritated you above all others. “Tin Man,” you nodded curtly, standing up from the piano.

“Kitten,” he replied, crossing his arms.

You both stared defiantly at one another as you had done the last time you met in Berlin, waiting for the other person to make the first move. You studied the man before you. He was more haggard in appearance. His bloodshot eyes and their accompanying dark circles indicated a man who got little rest and what sleep he did get was not restful. But a small flicker of fire danced behind his chocolate eyes.

Tony broke the staring contest and looked at the floor with a sigh, “Why are you here?”

“To talk,” you said simply.

His gaze flicked back to yours; he eyed you carefully. “About?”

“The pending murder trial of Sergeant James Barnes.” Tony just stared at you, unsurprised by the reasoning behind your visit. “I know you are the one behind it,” you said accusingly, “Shit, you were all over the news, talking about it. Why? Why are you doing this, Stark?”

“Like I told you before, kitten,” Tony said with a nonchalant shrug, “he’s a killer.”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes, “You know HYDRA had control of his mind. You know that everything he did for them was under duress. There is plenty of evidence to support that. I have everything the lawyers need to prove it.”

Tony stared at you, his gaze turning cold as his eyes narrowed, “He killed my parents.”

“And it kills him inside,” you said exasperatedly. “Every. Single. Day.” Tony said nothing. “He and your father were friends...good friends.”

He flashed you a condescending smile, “Oddly enough, that doesn’t make me feel better...” He walked toward the bar, “Justice needs to be served.” He opened a decanter of scotch and poured it into a glass.

“This isn’t justice,” you scoffed, “It’s vengeance.”

“Semantics,” Tony said with a wave of his hand. He sipped his scotch.

You shook your head in disbelief, “Doing this won’t bring your parents back. It’s only going to bring more pain.” You chuffed, “Trust me; I’ve been there.” You locked eyes with him, “You’ll only make things worse for everyone...Bucky, Me, Nat, Steve, Pepper...yourself.”

“Yeah, well,” Tony said, finishing his drink. “Maybe that will make me feel a little better.”

You threw your hands up in the air. “You really are a fool. You think you are all that different from him? You and Bucky are more alike than you realize.” You shook your finger in his face. To his credit, he didn’t flinch away. “You have both killed people. A lot of people. Now you can argue against that a million different ways, and fortunately, I don’t have the time nor the patience to sit through them all. But it doesn’t change the fact that death resulted from the choices you made.”

You sighed, “But despite that, you are both trying to become better people. And that’s something on which you should be commended. The difference is, however, Bucky chose, honestly still chooses every day, to accept the fact that he has done terrible things, even though those things were out of his control.” You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, willing your voice to stay firm. “You are giving and generous; you think if you continue to do more your pain will disappear.” You placed your hands on the granite countertop and leaned forward almost nose to nose with him. “How is that working out for you?” You let the question hang in the air a moment. While Tony’s expression remained neutral, the air around him grew heavy with tension; you had hit a nerve. “Your past remains alive and well because you can’t let go,” you continued. “Burying your emotions will kill you.”

“Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?” Tony smirked with a slight edge to his voice.

A curt laugh escaped through your nose. “Deflecting as per usual, your ego always gets in the goddamn way.” You ran your hand through your hair. This meeting had just been a waste of time. You should have known better than to think you of all people could convince Tony to see the error of his ways. Not even Pepper could do that most times. You were stubborn, but he took the cake.

You dug into your laptop bag, “Look, I’m going to leave you this.” You slid one of your flash drives across the countertop toward him, thankful you had the foresight to put a condensed version of your Winter Soldier file on it before you left Jessica’s. “If nothing else, watch the first video, see for yourself what HYDRA did to James for almost 70 years.” You turned to go but remembered the letter and phone Steve had given you, “Also, Steve told me to give you this.” You quickly dug them out and slammed them down on the counter.

With one final look of contempt, you turned on your heel and made your way toward the elevator, “I’ll show myself out.”

~*~*~*~

**New York Sanctum. Greenwich Village. May 2017.**

For the first time in two weeks, the clouds had finally rolled away revealing a beautiful clear blue sky. You stood in front of 177A Bleecker Street. The clean spring breeze pushed strands of hair in front of your face as you stared up at the eye-shaped window.

_Gods, if this a buncha bullshit, I’m gonna lose it._

You sighed and shook your head. Finding Dr. Strange and the Ancient One had been your main reason behind leaving the Barton Homestead. You had come too far to give up now. Last night, you received another communique from Shuri, informing you of the progress of her testing. Although she tried to sound upbeat, you could hear the hint of frustration in her voice. It unnerved you, shaking your faith in the process.

Drawing in a deep breath, you walked up to the main entrance, rang the doorbell, and waited. Just when you thought about giving up and returning to Jessica’s apartment, the door opened, revealing a short Asian man dressed in dark robes similar to those worn by Buddhist monks.

He stared at you intently, “Can I help you?”

“I’m...uh...I’m looking for the Sorcerer Supreme or The Ancient One?” you said. The fantastical words sounded strange on your tongue.

A tall man dressed in blue robes with a red cloak that billowed in the absence of even the slightest of breezes. As he stepped into the doorway, the early afternoon light illuminated his face, revealing a sharp dark blue gaze and dark hair streaked with gray. You recognized him instantly.

“Who’s asking?” Dr. Strange inquired, eyeing you up and down.

“Leia Antilles,” you replied. You had no idea if he was sympathetic to The Accords; so for now you would use one of your aliases until you could get a better read on him.

The Sanctum had other ideas, suddenly glowing orange energy surrounded the doorway and pulsed rhythmically forming a barrier between you and the entrance. Your mouth dropped open at the sight.

_“What the actual–”_

Dr. Strange smirked; his eyes narrowed. “Try again.”

You sighed, guessing you were just telling everyone your identity now. “My name is Y/N L/N.” Dr. Strange held up a finger to silence you from speaking any further. You noted the scarring on his fingers. You watched as the energy mandalas faded from the doorframe.

He nodded once, “That wasn’t so hard was it?”

You gave a sharp exhale through your nose, signaling your irritation. “Look, I’m here to speak with the Supreme, The Chosen One or...” you gestured wildly, “whatever your cult leader calls themselves.”

The Asian man balked at your statement, looking from Dr. Strange then back to you. “Cult?” he replied incredulously.

Dr. Strange ignored him, keeping his piercing gaze trained on you. Though his mouth ticked slightly upward at your cult comment. “Why?” he asked.

You held your hands out to your sides in a slight shrug, “I’m just desperate enough to seek out something...” you pondered a moment for the right word, “unconventional...to heal the person I love. I want to help. I want to learn.”

Dr. Strange and his colleague eyed you carefully for a moment. You shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, slightly bouncing from one foot to another. They looked at each other, a silent understanding passed between them. Dr. Strange moved back from the door. His colleague nodded to you, ushering you inside, “Let’s take this to the library, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> Matt Murdock is one of my favorites. Then again, I love me some Charlie Cox (He stole my heart in the movie Stardust. Gah, I need to watch that again.)
> 
> Also, whoo to confronting Tony Stark! And meeting Peter (officially lol)
> 
> The song that inspired her piano piece she composed with Bucky in mind is Daylight by Taylor Swift. (It's one of my sleeper favorites of hers) Paul Hankinson does a fantastic piano cover of it. Just paste the following link into your search bar if you wanna give it a listen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8KmD2uf4bs
> 
> And yes, my loves, our dear reader is becoming a wizard. I have a feeling she and Dr. Strange will get along well since they both love pop culture and have similar senses of humor.
> 
> As always, comment, leave kudos and share with your friend if you are enjoying the story!
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> P.S. The beginning quote was said by Phil Coulson from Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.


	11. Chapter Ten

  
  
  
  


_“_ **_I got a fire in my soul_ **

**_The fear's taking hold_ **

**_But I'm taking control_ **

**_Of my own life_ **

**_I'll never back down_ **

**_I get up, up, up_ **

**_When I'm bleeding_ **

**_Undefeated.”_ **

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


**New York Sanctum. Greenwich Village. May 2017.**

  
  


You stepped into a large dark foyer dominated by an imposing mahogany staircase. On the floor, red, tan, green and orange tiles laid arranged in an intricate mosaic. You followed Strange and the other man past several items encased in glass or displayed on the wall, reminding you of artifacts in a museum. The two men led you further into the residence, passing by three windows each displaying a different landscape – a lush forest, a snow-covered mountain range, and golden grasslands. They stopped at the end of a long hallway; Strange opened a door before the other man could stop him.

“I meant the library here at the Sanctum. Are you sure we should be taking her to Kamar-Taj?” he asked.

“Kamar-Taj?” you asked. “As in the temple in Nepal?” Strange and the other man looked at you in slight surprise.

“How do you know about Kamar-Taj?” Strange asked.

“I’m an excellent researcher,” you replied vaguely. Strange eyed you carefully. The other man said nothing, but you had a suspicion if Strange gave the word, you’d be out on the street faster than you could blink. “To be fair,” you said, crossing your arms. “If you all are trying to keep whatever you have going on here a secret, you’re doing a shitty job. There’s internet forums full of information about this place.”

Strange chuckled lightly, gesturing for you to follow him, “Follow me,” he said. He stepped through the door, the space between him and the door frame rippled as pebbles dropped in water. Tentatively, you reached out and put your hand through, noting the change in temperature on the other side. You turned back to look at the other man, who impatiently ushered you through the barrier. Taking a deep breath, you moved through the doorway and entered into a large stone rotunda. You let loose the breath you had been holding as your eyes fell on the massive stone globe floating in a sea of stars above a pedestal that held a talisman of an eye. It glowed with twinkling orange lights, mimicking the lights of cities as seen from an airplane.

“Gods,” you breathed.

“This isn’t even the fun stuff,” Strange said. “By the way, I’m Dr. Stephen Strange.” You turned to look at him, he beckoned you forward.

The other man followed behind you. You crossed a large courtyard passing groups of people dressed in robes practicing martial arts and conjuring shapes of glowing orange energy in the late spring air. You entered into a shadowed library. Your steps echoed off the stone floors as you approached a table laden with books surrounded by hexagonal shelves. The room exuded a powerful energy. It tingled across your skin; you could almost reach out and touch it.

“So,” Strange said, plucking a book from a nearby shelf, “you want to learn about the Mystic Arts?”

You nodded, “More or less.”

“Why?” he asked, thumbing through the pages.

“I’m not looking to join your super-secret boy band permanently. I just want to find a way to help the man I love,” you crossed your arms, “And, if I learn some useful things along the way then that's a bonus.”

“But, you will be joining another super-secret boy band when you’ve learned all you care to know,” he said, his sharp eyes flicking up from the book to meet your own.

You stared at him with parted lips, speechless. How much did he know?

“Yes, Wong and I know who you are,” Strange said, nodding to his colleague. “Agent Y/N L/N, former S.H.I.E.L.D. intelligence analyst and black hat hacker, known associate of the fugitives Captain America and The Winter Soldier.”

Your hands tightened into fists at your sides. “Bucky,” you said tightly, “his name is Bucky.”

“Why should I teach you anything?” Strange challenged, ignoring you.

You inhaled deeply through your nose, “I’m not after glory or fame. I just want to do what’s right and protect those I care about.” You maintained eye contact with the sorcerer, matching his intense stare.

After a moment, a smirk pulled up the corners of his mouth, “Good, you already understand the simplest and most significant lesson of all.”

You cocked your head to the side, “Which is?”

Strange’s eyes turned soft, “It’s not about you.”

You stood silent for a moment, before nodding, “So, where do we start?”

Strange smirked once more. He looked at Wong then back to you, “Forget everything you think you know.”

You stared at him for a moment. Placing your hands on your hips, you shook your head with a laugh, “Could you sound any more like a fortune cookie?” Behind you, Wong began to laugh – a robust belly laugh, the kind that produces minimal sound. “Oh, that’s funny,” he said after he collected himself.

“Seriously?” Strange’s smile fell, “It took me months to get you to laugh and she does it...in what...20 minutes?”

Wong’s face turned serious as he looked at Strange, “She’s funnier than you.”

You felt the corners of your mouth widen in a smile. Your first genuine smile in almost a month.

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


**New York Sanctum. Greenwich Village. July 2017.**

  
  


“Magic comes from three different sources,” Wong said as you tried to conjure Tao mandalas as shields surrounding both your hands. “What are they?”

Your brow furrowed in concentration, “Personal energy, universal energy, and interdimensional energy.”

Wong nodded, “Good; when you conjure a shield or a weapon what energy are you pulling from?”

“The energy within this dimension – universal energy,” you said, sparking golden energy emitted from one of your fists surrounding one hand in the shape of a shield, not unlike Steve’s. You smiled and looked to Wong for approval.

He nodded, his expression remained neutral, “Very good, concentrate.”

Focusing on the surrounding energy, you pulled it in through your core and out through your hands with deep breaths. The warm energy of Eldritch magic flowed down your other arm and another shield flickered to life. You breathed a laugh as you admired the intricate designs of the mandala. Wong nodded in approval once more; the corners of his mouth turned upward in a subtle smile.

“Good,” Strange’s voice echoed off the walls of the Mirror Dimension where you practiced. “Now, can you maintain them?”

Before you could cock an eyebrow, Strange cracked a glowing Eldritch whip in your direction. You dodged it, holding up your hands in the defensive position Bucky had taught you. You were surprised the shields remained after being struck. You smiled and moved to attack, allowing instinct to take over, surrendering to the flow of energy. The warm tingling sensation of the dimensional energy flowed through your body. When Strange equated the process of harnessing dimensional energy to a computer program, your mind grasped the concept easily. Learning the gestures, words and rituals came as easily as learning a new coding language or a new piece of music.

You flicked Eldritch shields in Strange’s direction, unknowingly mimicking the way Steve used his shield in battle. He batted them away easily. He smiled, “Good, I see you won’t have any issue defending yourself when the time comes.”

“Being friends with the Avengers has its perks,” you said, relaxing your stance, allowing the energy to dissipate from your hands. Though you no longer channeled the universal energy, you could still feel it flowing around your body, ready to be used at any moment. “Including hand-to-hand combat training with some of the best,” you said with a smile.

“Of course,” Strange smirked. The Eldritch whip disappeared. “That’s enough for today.”

You nodded, raising both hands. You turned your right arm counterclockwise; a shower of sparks surrounded a large portal leading to the Sanctum’s library. You and the two men stepped through.

Wong nodded in your direction as he walked toward the kitchen. “That’s the fastest portal you’ve made so far, Y/N. I’m impressed.”

You smiled at him and moved to place the Sling Ring back in the box with the others. Stephen shook his head and held up his hand. “Keep it,” he said, “You’ve mastered it, so you should have one of your own.”

You nodded, placing the ring in your pocket, “Thanks.”

A ringing sounded from your other pocket. You checked the caller id and took a shuddering breath. Today was the first hearing of Bucky’s case. You looked back at Stephen and excused yourself.

You flipped the phone open, “Hello, Matt,” you greeted, walking down the hall toward your room.

“Hey, Y/N,” he replied, “You have a minute to talk?”

“Of course,” you said, pushing your door open. “How did it go today?”

“As we expected,” Matt said, “Since Barnes didn’t show, the judge hit him with Contempt of Court and slapped him with a bench warrant.”

You nodded, pulling off your practice robes, eager to be back in your leggings and one of Bucky’s henleys. “Makes sense. Did Stark show?”

“Yeah, he did. I don’t see why though.”

You rolled your eyes, “Stark was probably there to make sure things go his way.”

“Most likely,” Matt agreed, “the judge set a continuance for 6 months from now. Any chance of him leaving cryo anytime soon?”

You still your movements and sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, “I don’t think so, Matt. The last report I got wasn’t good.”

You heard Matt sigh over the phone, “Well, hopefully, things change; the longer he doesn’t appear the worse it will be.”

“Yeah, I know. I know.” You ran your hand through your hair, “Thanks for doing this, Matt.”

“It’s not a problem,” he replied. “I’m happy to help.” You could hear his smile on the other end.

“I’ve been meaning to ask...” you started, “...why did you agree to take this case so readily? Not that I’m looking a gift horse in the mouth, I just figured that there had to be something more.”

Matt chuckled, “I mean...yeah, there is more to it.”

When he didn’t say anything further, you prompted him, “Well, ya gonna share with the class there, Mr. Murdock?”

He laughed, “When all of this is over, I’ll tell you.”

You smiled, “I’ll hold you to it.”

“I’ll be in touch,” Matt said.

“Tell Foggy and Karen thank you for me?”

“Sure thing.”

You hung up the phone and rested your elbows on your knees, hanging your head. Six months until the next hearing. Hopefully, Bucky would be awake by then. Over the past few months, however, you started to wonder if it was worth your time to pay attention to something like this. If Bucky were to show his face in public, what would stop the UN from taking him away? As long as you and the others remained hidden and one step ahead of people like Secretary Ross, why did you need to even let something like this bother you so much? You and the others knew Bucky was innocent of everything he had been accused of, but the world wasn’t ready to listen to his side of the story right now.

As an act of self-preservation, you needed to stay in the shadows. No matter how badly you wished to tell Bucky’s story; it wasn’t your story to tell. Bucky deserved a chance to tell his story on his own terms.

For now, for once, you needed to focus on yourself. Learning the ways of the Mystic Arts opened your mind to so many new ideas and possibilities. Your mind wandered back to the incident at the HYDRA base in Colorado. You sighed running a hand through your hair. To help the ones you loved, to become a true member of the team, you needed to better yourself first. You needed to learn how to live above your demons, as Natasha had said. You stood up from your bed and padded down the hall. You needed dinner and some form of caffeine before you spent another night in the library. You couldn’t wait until you mastered astral projection. Then your body could sleep while your astral body could study.

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


**New York Sanctum. Greenwich Village. September 2017.**

  
  


You watched massive thunder-clouds roll into New York Harbor from the Sanctum’s rooftop terrace. The muggy summer breeze pushed back your hair from your face. After your initial meeting at the Kamar-Taj library, you began staying at the Sanctum instead of with Jessica in Hell’s Kitchen. You’d asked Stephen to teach you in New York rather than Kamar-Taj so that you would be within reach of your friends should they need you, and he agreed.

Your training routine was the same every day. You started every morning with a meditation session – strengthening your mental abilities was essential in mastering the astral plane and teleportation. If you weren’t careful, drawing too much on your personal energy could kill you. Then you joined Stephen and Wong in the Mirror Dimension to practice your spells. At night, you would study, devouring all the books the Masters provided for you to read. You had made good progress, but not as much as you would have liked. You sighed in slight frustration, closing the book you had been reading.

“You can’t rush the process,” you heard Stephen’s voice behind you. “Trust me, I’ve tried.” He appeared beside you, resting his arms on the concrete barrier.

“Yeah,” you snorted, “Well, we weren’t all blessed with an eidetic memory.”

“No, I suppose not,” Stephen smiled.

You sighed and watched the sky darken. The clouds rumbled with low rolls of thunder. “You were a doctor before all of this. A neurosurgeon?”

Stephen nodded, “I was...one of the best.”

“Do you think the mystic arts could help, Bucky?” you asked.

Stephen shrugged, “Brains are resilient even with the diminished neuroplasticity that occurs with aging. From what you told me, there may be some brain damage from 70 years of wiping his memories. But since he is enhanced with a form of super-soldier serum, there is no telling how extensive it is or if there is even any damage at all. As far as the years of conditioning and brainwashing, that wasn’t really my area of expertise as a surgeon.”

You nodded, “That’s fair.”

“But,” Stephen continued, “If channeling dimensional energy can make it seem like a complete spinal cord injury never happened then maybe it could bypass psychological traumas like conditioning as well.”

“I suppose,” you mused. “But, that would mean he would have to learn this too.” You tried to picture Bucky meditating or conjuring strands of universal energy between his hands. Would he even be able to perform spells with a metal arm or even if he only had one arm?

Stephen nodded, “If you continue at this rate of progress, you will be able to teach him, at least the basics, rather easily.”

You turned to look at the master, “You think?”

“You’ve been doing well, even without the eidetic memory,” he teased. You nudged him playfully with your elbow. “You have a natural talent for The Mystic Arts. More so than I did. The Ancient One would have been impressed.”

You smiled, “Thanks.” Instantly, your view of the incoming storm was obscured by an intricate mandala that pulsed as if warning of something. Strange’s eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

“Someone is trespassing,” he said with a sharp exhale.

You tilted your head to the side, curious, “Who?”

“Loki of Asgard.”

Your breath caught. You thought Loki was being kept as a prisoner in Asgard. That’s what the S.H.I.E.L.D. reports on the Battle of New York indicated. But, no one had seen or heard from Thor since the Ultron Offensive. Given Loki’s powers and cunning nature, escaping confinement seemed to be his specialty. Whatever the case, Loki’s presence in New York was an unwelcome one. If you were being honest, you wouldn’t hesitate to punch him in the face for what he did to Clint, should you ever get the chance. Your expression hardened, “What are we going to do about that?”

A wicked smile grew across Stephen’s lips. “You still have that Sling Ring I gave you?”

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


Fifteen minutes later, a pounding knock reverberated through the Sanctum. You opened the front door, revealing a tall, broad, bearded man with golden hair tied back in a ponytail holding an umbrella. “Holy shit,” you breathed, recognizing the demigod immediately.

Thor raised an eyebrow in disbelief before he broke into a huge smile that lit up his entire face. “Son of bitch!” he exclaimed, scooping you up and spinning you into a hug. “Lady Y/N! It’s good to see you! It’s been ages!”

You giggled, hugging him back. You had met Thor when you worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. His friend Sif had helped some of the field agents on missions. He accompanied her on a few of them, visiting with Clint, Steve, and Natasha when he was able.

Like Steve, Thor accompanied Clint to your office one day as he dropped off the latest intel he had gathered. You had rather embarrassingly rambled on about how your sister loved Vikings and Norse mythology, but Thor just smiled the entire time and indulged in your curiosities. Over time, you became one of the people he would stop by and see before returning to Asgard. The first time Thor showed up at your office unannounced to visit, you thought Rey was going to go into shock. To a lot of agents, Thor was serious and intimidating, but to you, he was almost like a puppy, full of energy and smiles. “It’s great to see you too, Thor,” you said as he gently put you down.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, glancing around the Sanctum’s foyer.

“Uh,” you chuckled nervously, “it’s a long story.”

Suddenly, the two of you were instantly transported upstairs to the darkened parlor. You caught a glimpse of Stephen, levitating by the round stained glass window.

  
  


_“Melodramatic ass.”_

  
  


“Thor Odinson,” he called out, floating toward the pair of you. “God of Thunder.”

Thor immediately shoved you behind him and held up his umbrella, ready to defend himself and you if necessary.

Stephen rolled his eyes, “You can put down the umbrella.”

Thor’s grip on the beat-up umbrella tightened for a moment. You stepped out from behind him and put yourself in between the two men. “A little warning next time would be nice,” you said to Stephen, shaking your head of the dizziness that sometimes accompanied teleportation.

“My apologies,” Stephen nodded to you. Thor looked at you then Stephen then back to you, confused. You smiled and nodded, conjuring an umbrella stand next to him.

Thor studied you carefully and hesitantly put down the umbrella. As he did so, the lights came up, revealing all of the Sanctum’s artifacts. Thor reached over and absentmindedly began to fiddle with the Daggers of Daveroth. “So the earth has wizards now?” he asked, gesturing to the two of you with one of the relics. As he attempted to but the dagger back, he knocked all of them off their stand. Hastily, he tried to pick them up and put them back as if nothing had happened. You placed your hand over your mouth, trying to hide your smile as you chuckled.

Stephen rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, leaning against a desk, “The preferred term is ‘Master of the Mystic Arts’.”

“It's a little pretentious though,” you quipped. Stephen shot you an exasperated look.

Thor grinned with a slight chuckle at your precociousness, “Alright, wizard, who are you?” He placed a hand on his hip cockily. “Why should I care?”

Stephen sighed, “My name is Doctor Stephen Strange and I have some questions for you.” Thor cocked an eyebrow. “Take a seat.”

Once again, Stephen teleported the three of you to wing-backed chairs. “Goddamnit, Strange,” you hissed, rubbing the heels of your hands against your temples.

He snickered and looked at Thor, “Tea?” He nodded to the cup which suddenly appeared in the demigod's hands.

“I don’t drink tea,” Thor said.

“What do you drink?” Stephen said, narrowing his eyes.

Thor shook his head with a smile, “Not tea.” You sighed and changed the teacup to a large beer stein. He looked down at the frosted mug then back to you, saluting you with the glass. He chugged most of the stein and watched in wonderment as you magically refilled it.

“So, I keep a watch list of individuals and beings from other realms that may be a threat to this world,” Stephen said, pressing his fingers together and looked at Thor. “Your adopted brother Loki is one of these beings.”

Thor shrugged nonchalantly, chugging more of the beer, “A worthy inclusion.”

Stephen rolled his eyes at Thor’s lackadaisical nature. “Then why bring him here?” he huffed.

Thor smiled as you refilled the stein once more. “We’re looking for my father.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Odin’s on Earth? Since when?” Thor shrugged.

“So, if I were to tell you where Odin was, all parties concerned would promptly return to Asgard?” Stephen posited.

Thor smiled, “Promptly.” He took another swig of his beer.

Stephen grinned, clapping his hands together, “Great. Then I’ll help you.”

Thor cocked his head at the Master, irritated, “If you knew where he was, why didn’t you call me?”

You snorted, “Thor, you don’t have a phone. Clint and I tried to give you one and you refused. I believe you said...” you puffed out your chest and deepened your voice, “’A Prince of Asgard has no need for your silly Midgardian technology’.”

Thor chuffed and waved your statement away, “No, I don’t have a phone, but he could’ve sent an electronic letter.” He gestured towards Stephen and looked back at you. “It’s called an email,” he said smugly.

You raised your brow and dropped your chin, annoyed. “I’m a hacker, Thor. I know what an email is. And, you don’t have a computer either, much less an email address.”

Thor scoffed and went to say something else before Stephen cut him off, “I have to tell you, he was adamant that he not be disturbed. Your father said he had chosen to remain in exile.”

“Well, my father is no longer in exile,” Thor said tightly, his patience growing thin. “So if you could tell me where he is, I can take him home.”

“Gladly,” Stephen said, “He’s in Norway.”

Instantly, Stephen appeared on the other side of the room, next to a bookshelf. Thor wobbled unsteadily, sloshing beer out of the stein as he reached out to the bookcase to steady himself. You chuckled, grateful Stephen didn’t teleport you this time. You crossed the room toward the two men. Stephen mumbled to himself as he teleported a few times more around the room, taking Thor with him each time. The demigod grew more discombobulated by the second.

“I just need one strand of your hair,” Stephen said to Thor.

Thor held up his almost empty mug and pointed at Stephen; he swayed a bit, turning slightly green. “Let me explain something,” he said, “my hair is not to be meddled wi–“ Quickly, you walked up behind him and plucked a strand from his ponytail. He wheeled around and rubbed the back of his head, “HEY!”

“I’m sure you can afford to lose one hair,” you said teasingly, handing the strand to Stephen.

“Perfect; thanks,” Stephen said, extending the hair and imbuing it with energy with a few gestures. Suddenly, the two of you stood once more in the main foyer; Thor tumbled down the main staircase. You rolled your eyes at Stephen, “Really?” He ignored you, staring at the large portal you stood in front of.

Thor stood up unsteadily, brushing off his jeans, “We could’ve just walked.”

You smiled contritely, “Sorry,” you mouthed. Thor looked down at you and smiled.

“He’s waiting for you,” Stephen said and gestured to the glowing portal leading to a picturesque meadow.

Thor nodded, “All right.”

“Don’t forget your umbrella,” Stephen reminded.

“Ah, yes,” Thor extended his arm out and opened his hand. Distant crashing noises could be heard.

You chuckled and shook your head with a sigh, “You brought this on yourself, Doc.” Stephen’s mouth sat in a hard line, barely wincing as the sounds of splintering wood and shattering glass grew louder.

Thor shrugged. “Sorry,” he said, his voice was unapologetic as the umbrella flew into his hand with an iconic “whoosh”. He looked around, “I suppose I’ll need my brother back.”

Stephen looked at you, “Right,” you said.

As the portal opened ten feet above your heads, Loki’s screams could be heard. You smiled wickedly as he landed hard on the tiled floor below. His body heaved with deep breaths and his hair was disheveled. “...I have been falling... **FOR THIRTY MINUTES!!** ” he shouted. You snickered. It had been your idea to send him to the void dimension, hoping it would knock him down a peg.

You looked at Thor, “You can handle him from here?”

He smiled at you, “Of course.” He kissed your cheek and then shook Stephen’s hand, “Thank you very much for your help.”

“Good luck,” Stephen said with a smile.

“ **HANDLE ME!?** ” Loki sneered. “ **WHO ARE YOU?** ”

Thor looked back to tell Loki off, but you crossed the distance between yourself and the God of Mischief in an instant. He backed up slightly when you suddenly appeared chest to chest with him. Infusing your fist with dimensional energy, you reared back and socked Loki in the nose, knocking him to the floor. “That was for Clint Barton, you son of bitch,” you spat, backing away.

Thor chortled, “This seems to happen to you a lot, brother.”

Loki stood up swiftly, drawing his daggers and locked eyes with you. “...You think you’re some kind of sorcerer?” he seethed.

With a smirk, you quickly conjured mandala shields around both your hands and dropped into a defensive position, “You’re lucky I didn’t have an arrow to put through your eye socket. But, I can see if I can conjure one up if you’d like?”

“Don’t think for one minute, you second rate...” He stared toward you, brushing past Thor.

_“_ Alright, bye-bye!” Stephen said, pulling the portal toward the two gods. It swallowed them and disappeared in a shower of orange sparks.

Stephen exhaled a breath through his nose and crossed his arms, shooting you an annoyed look. “You had to antagonize him?”

You shook the mandalas off your hands and tossed your hair back. “Don’t know what you are talking about,” you dismissed as you walked up the staircase.

“Do you know all of the world’s superheroes, personally?” he called after you.

You stopped at the top of the stairs, grabbing a hold of your chin with your thumb and index finger to appear deep in thought. “No,” you shrugged after a moment, “I don’t know Dr. Banner, Iron Fist or Daredevil.”

Stephen chuckled, “Uh-huh.” You smiled and made your way toward the parlor to pick up the mess Mjølnir had made.

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  


**New York Sanctum. Greenwich Village. Late October 2017.**

  
  


Your hands cramped as you practiced the gestures for the same warding spell over and over. Wong questioned your knowledge of the rules of the Mystic Arts every once in a while he critiqued your hand placement. “What’s one of the main taboos in the practice of the Mystic Arts?”

You continued to practice your spell work, “Tampering with natural law.”

“Such as?” he further inquired.

“Resurrecting the dead or tampering with the space-time continuum.” Wong corrected your finger placement. “I still don’t see how the second one is possible.”

“Oh, it is very possible,” Wong replied.

“How so?”

Wong hesitated in his answer. Just as he moved to say something, Stephen interrupted him, “With this.” He gestured to the talisman around his neck. “The Eye of Agamotto – the first Sorcerer Supreme.” With a few gestures of his hands, green energy poured from the necklace and encircled his hands. The talisman opened revealing a glowing bright green gem. It floated above his palm and pulsed with energy.

“The Time Stone,” Wong informed you, “one of the six Infinity Stones.”

“An Infinity Stone?” you asked, eyeing the gem, studying it. “Like the one that gave Wanda and Pietro Maximoff their powers?”

Wong nodded, “The very same.” Stephen drew the stone back into the talisman and allowed it to close. “Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver were imbued with the energy of the Mind Stone while it was still encased within Loki’s scepter.”

“The stone that’s in Vision’s head,” you murmured. “There are six of them?” you asked.

Wong nodded, conjuring an illusion of a field of stars, nebulae, and galaxies, the Mind and Time Stone floated among the celestial objects, “Six elemental crystals were created at the time of the Big Bang and scattered to the far reaches of the universe.” Four more different colored gems joined the Time and Mind Stone within the illusion. “Space, Reality, Power, Soul, Mind and Time, each possessing the ability to control that essential aspect of existence within this particular universe.”

“Wow,” you said, “So that’s how Loki controlled everyone, he used the Mind Stone.

Stephen nodded, “I believe you have also had an encounter with the Space Stone as well.”

You cocked an eyebrow, “I don’t think so; I think I would remember that.”

“You know it as the Tesseract,” Wong said.

Your mind wandered to the files detailing Steve’s last encounter with the famed HYDRA weapon. He indicated the Tesseract opened up a portal to space and caused The Red Skull to seemingly disintegrated, shooting his remains into the deep reaches of space. “Gods,” you breathed.

“Mess with any of these gems, and you tamper with natural law,” Wong stated, the illusion disappeared.

“But there have to be some instances where you would be necessary,” you stated. “If the existence of this universe was threatened, would you use it then?”

Wong and Stephen looked at one another and then back to you. “Possibly,” Stephen stated with a sly smile

You eyed them carefully under the impression there must be a story there, but you didn’t push it.

“As Masters of the Mystic Arts, we swore to protect the Time Stone with our lives,” Wong said. “In order to keep balance within the universe.”

“I’d hate to see what would happen if someone were to get their hands on all six,” you mused.

Wong nodded with a solemn expression, “Chaos and destruction on a cosmic scale.”

A beat of silence passed between the three of you. You stood up from the table, “Well before this conversation becomes even more depressing, I’m hungry. You all in the mood for sushi? I’m buying.” Before the two men could answer, an alert sounded from your Kimoyo beads. You looked down and watched the blue bead pulse with light. You looked up at the two men, who watched you carefully. “Excuse me,” you whispered, walking down the hallway to an empty study.

After you shut the door, you turned your palm upward. A holographic feed of the young Wakandan princess appeared above your palm.

“Molo, Y/N,” Shuri smiled, “Unjani?” _(“Hello, Y/N. How are you?”)_

“I’m doing okay, Shuri,” you said, “How are you?”

“I am well,” she smiled broadly, “I have good news.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Hope swelled in your chest. “That’s good to hear,” you said, struggling to keep your voice level.

Shuri rolled her eyes, “Oh come on, Y/N! A little more enthusiasm please.”

You chuckled, “I’m sorry. What’s the news?”

The smile on the princess’ face only grew wider. “I think you should come back to Wakanda. I’ll explain everything when you and Captain Rogers arrive.”

You groaned, “You’re killin’ me, Shuri.”

“But it is so much fun,” she quipped. “I will tell T’Challa to expect your arrival in a few days.”

You smiled slyly, thinking of the Sling Ring in your pocket, “Might be sooner than that, princess.”

She cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing on it, “We will be waiting for you either way.”

“Thank you, Shuri,” you said.

“Wamkelekile, my friend,” she replied before her image disappeared. _(“You’re welcome, my friend.”)_

You smiled, wrapping your arms around yourself. You took a shuddering breath; a huge weight had been lifted from your shoulders. You exited the study and made your way to the kitchen.

Stephen and Wong sat at the table looking over the take-out menu of your favorite sushi restaurant. “So...” you said, catching the attention of the two men, “I’ll still buy sushi, but afterward I have to go.”

Wong looked at you curiously. Stephen nodded, upon seeing your expression. “Barnes?” he asked.

You nodded, eyes welling with tears. “Finally some good news, but I need to get back.” The two men nodded in understanding, “I’m gonna go pack,” you sniffed, “Order whatever you want, just order double of everything I want to take some to Steve and the others. My wallet’s on the entry table by the door.”

As you turned to go, Stephen called out to you, “Take any books you need, Y/N.” You looked back at him. “Keep up with your studies.”

You nodded, “What happens when I finish them?”

Wong smirked, “You conjure a gateway in the library.”

“Okay,” you laughed, “Any late fees I should know about?”

Wong laughed. Stephen rolled his eyes, “Go pack.”

  
  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  


Once you finished packing and the sushi arrived, you stood in the foyer with the two masters.

“Thank you,” you said, slipping the strap of your laptop bag over your shoulder. “For everything.”

Wong smiled, “You’re welcome, Y/N.”

Stephen smiled, “If you need anything, you know where to find us.”

You nodded, “Ditto.” Slipping on your Sling Ring, you turned toward the front door. Raising both hands, you pictured the overlook of the chalet in your mind’s eye. You turned your right arm counterclockwise, revealing a snow-covered mountainside and a warm wooden chalet. Wong handed over your go-bag and the paper bag full of containers of sushi. You took them with a smile, “I’ll see you soon.” You stepped through the portal; your boots crunched on the newly-fallen snow as you turned around to wave goodbye to your new friends. They waved back and you closed the portal in a shower of orange sparks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE:
> 
> ::mimics Hagrid's voice:: "YOU'RE A WIZARD, DEAR READER!"
> 
> Also, whoop! a surprise visit from Thor and Loki. (And a much-deserved punch in the face for Loki.)
> 
> We're going back to Wakanda, folks!
> 
> Also, what do you think the others will think of the reader's new skill set?? 
> 
> As always, comment, gives kudos, and share with your friends if you are enjoying the story!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> P.S. The beginning quote is from "Never Back Down" by No Resolve.


	12. Interlude

Interlude

~*~*~*~

** Shuri’s Laboratory. Mount Bashenga. Late October 2017. **

T’Challa made his way to Shuri’s laboratory. His sister hailed him through the Kimoyo beads early that morning insisting he come to Wakandan Design Group Headquarters as soon as he was able. Walking the glassy sleek hallways, the king pondered the possibilities. He hoped she had good news. What he thought would only take a few months had stretched into a full year filled with numerous setbacks. He could feel himself beginning to doubt the advancement of Wakandan technology, wondering if he promised Steve and Y/N too much. Each time he and Shuri spoke to you regarding their efforts and the lack of progress, their hearts broke to hear how defeated you had become.

As he strode into the main chamber holding Bucky Barnes, he caught Shuri’s attention. She beamed at him, hopping from one foot to another in excitement. “Please, tell me you have some good news,” T’Challa asked, wary of becoming too hopeful.

The princess nodded her head voraciously, “I do, brother.” She gestured him over to the computer screens surrounding the cryo-chamber. “Come, let me impress you with my genius.”

T’Challa clasped his hands behind his back and leaned over to peer at the computer screen displaying scans of Bucky’s brain. “Tell me and then I will decide whether or not to clap for you,” he said to her with a playful smirk.

Shuri scoffed at him but continued on, “As you know, removing the programming as deeply ingrained as this is immensely difficult. The human brain is one of the most complex organs in the body. As such, there is no ‘delete button’ to press. The trigger words are so intertwined with many of his memories that a process that broad runs the risk of erasing Sergeant Barnes’ personality, everything that makes him who he is. That is the last thing we want, and I do not think Captain Rogers and Y/N would ever forgive us if we allowed that to happen. So to avoid that, we have to find each and every memory that has the greatest amount of control over his physical actions and the ones HYDRA manipulated to serve their needs…of which there are many.”

T’Challa raised an eyebrow at his younger sister, “This is the part where you tell me the good news, I hope?”

Shuri huffed at his impatience, “I have finally perfected an algorithm that will remove the influence of the ten trigger words whilst retaining the memories with which they are associated, essentially rebooting him.” The princess’ cadence rose rapidly as she excitedly explained the other possible applications of this base program. T’Challa eyed her in wonder. With Shuri’s vast intellect, it was easy to forget that she was still just a teenager.

He smiled and looked over to the man resting peacefully in the cryo-pod, “Hopefully with this, Sergeant Barnes will be able to dream in peace once more.”

~*~*~*~

_The wind rattled the cabin window rousing Bucky from a deep sleep. Rubbing his eyes, he looked out the window, noting the ice covering the Japanese Magnolia tree that stood sentry outside. A pastel rainbow painted the sky by the sunrise hinted at the possible arrival of an early spring. He smiled at the thought of soon being able to open the windows and letting in the fresh Rocky Mountain air after being shut in all winter long._

_A whimper came from his right side. He turned to find you lying on your left side, facing him. Your brow furrowed in discomfort. He pursed his lips slightly at the sight of you in any type of pain, but he had seen that look on your face before over the past 7 months. His knuckle trailed lightly down your cheek, arm and torso before coming to a stop where his unborn son rested. Even through his metal prosthesis, he could feel the force behind his child’s kicks._

_Shaking his head with a sigh, he moved further down the bed slowly lifting the hem of your sleep shirt, revealing your baby bump in all of its glory. Bucky marveled for a moment at the sight he never thought he would get to see. Softly caressing your stomach, he brushed kisses over every spot he spied his foot, knee, elbow, or fist. “Now, son,” he cooed lowly, “I know you are anxious to meet everyone, but let’s give your ma a break, huh?” He continued to kiss and murmur sweet nothings into your belly, watching the child within you slowly settle down at the sound of his voice. “Atta, boy,” he murmured against your skin. He laid there for a moment, listening to the sound of his child’s heartbeat. After a while, he felt your fingers gently stroke his hair. He looked up at you and the soft contented smile that graced your lips while your eyes were still glazed over with sleep._

_“Good morning, Sarge,” your morning voice rasped._

_“Good morning, doll,” he replied, pulling himself away from your swollen belly to lay next to you. Your buried your face in his broad chest, your forehead resting against the crook of his neck. “Little man giving you trouble?” he asked, massaging circles into your lower back to relieve some of the tension you carried there._

_You shrugged, “No more than usual, especially with you here to settle him down.” You sighed relaxing further into his embrace, “He’s gonna be such a Daddy’s boy.”_

_Bucky chuckled, moving his hand from your lower back to stroke your hair, pleased that hesitation no longer laced his movements when it came to touching you. Once, the thought of being around a baby, much less holding one, terrified him, but not anymore. He was proud of the progress he had made since he escaped HYDRA’s clutches._

_You sighed contentedly against his chest, allowing his ministrations to lull you slowly back to sleep. As your breathing evened out, Bucky’s hand traveled to your stomach once again, reveling in the fact he was able to live freely and on his own terms._

_A soft creak came from the bedroom door. Over the top of your head, Bucky spotted a mop of hair in a shade that matched your own and a pair of sleepy steel-blue eyes. He put a finger to his lips and waved his daughter over. The little girl tiptoed to his side of the bed and climbed up and over him, settling between you two. Bucky kissed his eldest child’s forehead, “Whaddaya doin’ up, angel?”_

_“Had a bad dream,” the toddler whispered, her thumb halfway in her mouth. She hid her face from him._

_Bucky nodded in understanding, “Ah, thought so. I get them too sometimes.”_

_She looked up at him wide-eyed, “Daddies aren’t supposed to get nightmares.”_

_Bucky chuckled, “Oh, trust me, we do.” He nuzzled his daughter’s head, breathing in her scent. “We just know how to make them go away.”_

_“How?” she asked quietly._

_Bucky stroked his daughter’s hair and watched as you instinctively reached for her, sensing her presence. With a tired sigh, she cuddled into you, her eyelids drooping with exhaustion. Bucky chuckled and draped his arm over his two best girls, “Lots of cuddles,” he whispered before falling asleep once more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR’S NOTE: 
> 
> Happy late birthday to me! I had hoped to get this out on my actual birthday as a gift to y’all, but a food coma caused by too much sushi prevented me from doing so. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the Daddy!Bucky fluff. I just think it’s fucking adorable even if it is just a dream. I will try to have the next chapter out as soon as I can.
> 
> As always, comment, leave kudos, and share with friends if you are enjoying the story! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger


	13. Chapter Eleven

**_"I tried to be someone else_ **

**_But nothing seemed to change_ **

**_I know now, this is who I am really inside_ **

**_I’ve finally found myself_ **

**_Fighting for a chance_ **

**_I know now, this is who I really am.”_ **

~*~*~*~ 

**S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. Late October 2017.**

Trudging through the snow, you slowly made your way to the chalet. You noted the Quinjet stood parked in its usual spot meaning, most likely, everyone was home. As you ascended the terrace steps, you spotted Steve and Natasha sitting at the dining room table, looking over a large map. Sam stood in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. As you approached the door, Steve perked up and tilted his head to side as if he heard something. Natasha’s hands darted toward the gun she always kept in her waistband. You could almost hear it click into place as she cocked it back. Sam looked around to find the source of the threat, locking eyes with you. You smiled sheepishly and waved, suddenly nervous to see everyone. 

Dropping his glass on the counter with a clatter, Sam bounded toward the terrace door and threw it open. “What the hell, Y/N!” he shouted, spinning you around lifting you in a tight embrace. 

“Hello to you too, Bird Brain,” you croaked, as he squeezed you. 

“What are you doing here?!” he asked, pulling away from you as he looked you over. “How did you get here?” His eyes swept the surroundings behind you looking for a mode of transportation. 

You laughed, hugging him once more. Steve and Natasha appeared behind him; smiles lighting up their faces. “Hey Nat, Specimen,” you said. 

Natasha shoved Sam out of the way and threw her arms around your neck. “How are you?” she asked. 

“I’m doing okay,” you said, smiling as you pulled back from her. “Been busy. You holding down the fort?” 

“You know it.” Natasha smiled, gesturing over her shoulder with her thumb. “Someone’s gotta keep these bozos here in line.” Steve and Sam scoffed at her. She chuckled and stepped back to allow Steve say hello. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, taking the take-out bag and your go-bag from you like the gentleman he was. He kissed your cheek, “It’s good to see you.” 

“You too,” you replied. Sam ushered all of you inside out of the cold. “Where are the twins?” you asked, shrugging off Hunter’s leather jacket and your laptop bag. 

A flash of blue dashed out from one of the hallways. You squeaked as Pietro collided with you, spinning you into a hug. “Princezna!” he exclaimed. _(“Princess!”)_ “I thought I heard you!” 

You smiled despite the dizziness you felt when Pietro sat you down, “Hello, Pietro.” You looked around, “Where is your sister?” 

The other Maximoff twin came skidding around the corner, her eyes lighting up in recognition. “Y/N!” Wanda cried, rushing up to you taking your hands in hers. Her eyes flashed red as she looked you over, cocking her head to one side, “You feel...different.” 

You nodded, knowing what she meant. “Yeah...” 

“Where have you been?” Wanda asked, dragging you to the dining room table to sit. “How did you get here?” 

You laughed, “I’ll tell you everything, but first, let’s eat. I’m starving.” You gestured to the paper bag holding the sushi. “I brought dinner.” Natasha and Sam’s eyes lit up in delight as they spied the restaurant’s logo. Pietro dashed about kitchen grabbing plates and a bottle of whiskey and then hurriedly set the table. You chuckled, grabbing the take-out boxes from the bag and handed them to Natasha to set out. You dumped out packets of soy sauce and chopsticks in the middle of the table. 

Once seated, everyone passed around containers of sushi, gyoza and miso soup and filled their plates, making small talk and catching up. Wanda gushed about Vision and their trips to Edinburgh. You noted Sam’s slight grimace at the mention of the android. As Wanda turned to answer a question from Natasha, you eyed him curiously. He shook his head and waved you off. You cocked an eyebrow before turning your attention back to Wanda, deciding to ask him about it later. Pietro and Natasha regaled you with tales of their missions over the past few months. Steve asked about your meetings with the lawyers and the progress of the legal case against Bucky as you tried to teach the super-soldier how to properly use chopsticks, failing miserably. You informed him about Matt Murdock and his partners Foggy Nelson and Karen Page; how they readily accepted the case and were working diligently to produce a solid defense. You watched Steve tentatively try all the sushi rolls present, laughing at the grimace that laced his features when you told him what fish roe actually was. After that, he stole a box of gyoza for himself. 

As the last sushi rolls were eaten, Sam topped off everyone’s glasses of whiskey before asking you once again, “So, Y/N, how in the hell did you get here?” 

You took a swig of your whiskey, “I suppose that is the question of the hour.” Everyone leaned forward eager to hear your explanation. You stood up from your chair and backed away from the table. “Specimen, what’s your favorite place in the world?” 

Steve cocked an eyebrow, “Coney Island.” 

You nodded, slipping on your Sling Ring. Raising your hands, you pictured Coney Island Amusement Park in your minds’ eye. You took a deep breath, pulling in the universal energy that surrounded you and rotated your right hand counterclockwise. A portal opened before you in a shower of orange sparks, eliciting gasps of awe from your friends. You turned to face them, loving the surprised looks on their faces. 

“Son of a bitch,” Steve whispered as he stared at the bustling pier. 

Wanda grinned from ear to ear, “I knew there was something different about you!” 

You smiled, closing the portal, and put your Sling Ring back in your pocket. 

Sam’s mouth had dropped open in shock. He quickly closed it and pointed to the empty space the portal had occupied. “What the hell was that?” 

You chuckled, “So you know how I said, I found something that may help Bucky?” Sam nodded. “Well, I found a teacher who taught me how to use the Mystic Arts.” 

“Magic?” Natasha said skeptically, “Like actual magic?” 

Pietro shook the shocked look on his face, “So, you’re telling us you’re a wizard?!” 

You shrugged with a nod, “That’s a gross oversimplification, but yeah, I guess so.” 

Wanda bounced up from the table, eager to get a closer look. “What else can you do?” she asked. You took another deep breath and raised your hands. With a few complex gestures and words of power, you drew a warding mandala in the air in front of you. The pulsating orange lines of energy reflected off Wanda’s glowing red eyes as she studied your movements and the energy around you. Once completed, you pushed the mandala down to the floor of the chalet, where it disappeared with a crack. The resulting displacement of energy ruffled everyone’s hair and clothing. 

Wanda’s eyes widened in delight, “That’s amazing.” 

“What the hell was that and how the hell did you do it?” Sam asked, his eyes flicked to Wanda for an explanation. 

“She’s using the energy of this dimension to influence her surroundings, essentially reshaping reality,” Wanda explained as she took your hands in hers; tendrils of pulsing red energy encircled your hands as she examined them. “It’s fascinating...I never thought it was possible without innate powers like my own.” 

Steve raised an eyebrow, “Is that safe?” 

You rolled your eyes at Steve’s overprotective nature, “One of the main tenants of The Mystic Arts is to not tamper with natural law. The spells I perform do not affect this reality on a broad cosmic scale permanently, just my own and those around me. And by using dimensional energy instead of my own personal energy, I am not putting myself in harm’s way.” 

“What was that symbol though?” Sam asked. 

“It’s a warding spell for the chalet,” you said, taking a seat back at the table. “It will alert me to any unknown presence that crosses the barrier as well as trap them in the void dimension until we can deal with them.” 

Natasha chuffed, cracking a fortune cookie in half and handed a piece to Steve. “Well, that’s handy.” 

You nodded, “It trapped Loki easily enough.” 

Steve’s and Natasha’s eyes went wide. “Loki’s back on Earth?” Steve asked, his voice laced with unease. Natasha’s expression turned to stone; she moved to suit up. 

“Oh no! Not anymore,” you said quickly, waving your hands for Natasha to sit down. “He and Thor came to New York looking for their father about a month ago.” 

“Thor was here too?” Natasha asked. 

You nodded, “I’m sure he’s back on Asgard by now. My teacher and I helped them locate Odin and sent them on their way...Well...” you chuckled, “not until after I punched Loki in the face for what he did to Clint.” Natasha and Sam beamed with pride. 

Steve just sighed, shaking his head with a soft smile, “Always picking fights with people bigger than you.” 

You raised your eyebrows, “Now, who does that sound like?” Steve sighed exasperatedly. Natasha, Wanda, and Pietro just laughed while Sam high-fived you. 

Steve smiled, “So why did you come back, sweetheart? Not that we aren’t happy to see you, I just didn’t expect to see you so soon.” 

You swirled the whiskey in your glass, “Shuri called me.” 

Everyone sat up a little straighter, all the attention focused on you. 

“What did she say?” Natasha asked, taking Steve’s hand. 

You sighed, “She said she had good news, but she didn’t give me any specifics.” You turned to look at Steve, “She said she wanted to explain everything to the both of us in person.” 

Steve nodded and looked over to Natasha, who nodded back to him, “Notify her we’re coming. I can have the jet ready to go in the morning.” 

“Or we can just take a portal and go tonight,” you sighed, holding up your Sling Ring. 

He looked a little apprehensive, “I dunno, sweetheart.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re scared, Cap,” Sam teased, a sly smile spread across his lips. 

“I’m not scared...” Steve said a bit too quickly. 

Natasha and Pietro snorted, trying to hide their smiles behind their hands. 

“You can jump out of a plane without a parachute, but you won’t take an inter-dimensional portal?” Sam teased further. 

An angry blush swept across Steve’s features, “Fine, we can portal there.” 

You smiled and clapped your hands, “Excellent.” 

While Steve and Natasha retreated to their shared bedroom to pack, you and Sam cleaned up the kitchen. As soon as Wanda was out of earshot, you turned to Sam, handing him the last plate to dry. “You gonna tell me what that face was about?” 

He dried the plate and placed it to the side. “What face?” he asked nonchalantly. 

You sighed sharply through your nose and shot him an exasperated look, “You know exactly the face I am referring to.” You handed him a whiskey glass to dry. 

“It’s nothing,” Sam minimized, avoiding your gaze. “Just thinking about a recent mission.” 

You called his bluff, “Bullshit.” You pulled the plug in the sink, allowing the water to drain as you rinsed the last glass, “Spill it,” you said, withholding the glass as he reached for it. 

Sam sighed, “It’s nothing; I promise.” 

Your eyes narrowed, “Don’t lie to me, Wilson.” Sam’s mouth rested in a hard line as you snatched the dishtowel from his hands to dry the glass. You both stared at one another for a few moments before Sam broke eye contact. He placed his palms on the counter and sighed heavily. You knew that type of sigh all too well. You cocked an eyebrow, “How long?” 

“How long what?” he asked, feigning innocence. 

You rolled your eyes. “How long have you had feelings for Wanda?” you asked bluntly and a little too loudly. 

Sam cringed at the volume of your voice and looked around wildly checking to see if anyone had heard you. “Dammit, woman. Keep your voice down, will you?” 

You continued to stare at him, awaiting his answer. 

He sighed once more, crossing his arms across his chest, and leaned against the counter. He looked at the floor, “Since we settled down here after escaping The Raft.” He ran a hand down his face, “Or maybe before...I dunno.” 

You smiled softly at your friend, piecing together moments from the past year. That time he held her feet in his lap on their first night in the chalet, rubbing them lightly. She was always his first pick for a dance partner. They were often paired together on missions due to how well they had worked together before The Accords. How Sam would always check in with her after a mission, especially ones that drew heavily on her powers. The looks and smiles he would give her when she spoke. How he always offered to help her in the kitchen when she cooked dinner, claiming to want to learn how to cook something other than breakfast food. How he always seemed despondent when the team would drop Wanda off in Scotland to spend some time with Vision. You idly wondered if Wanda noticed these things too. Now that you thought about it, he wasn’t exactly subtle; you just hadn’t noticed it because you had been preoccupied. 

“I can’t say anything though; she’s happy with Vision,” Sam lamented. “I don’t want to ruin that for her. Her life has been so chaotic; she needs someone stable like him.” 

“I can understand that,” you offered. He nodded. “Hunter used to tell me that loving someone is wanting what is best for them, whether it includes you or not. It’s very noble of you.” 

“Yeah...well, being noble sucks,” he chuffed lamely. 

You chuckled, taking his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. A silent assurance that everything would work out the way it was supposed to. He smiled and squeezed back. Steve and Natasha emerged from the hallway and made their way into the kitchen. “Just notified Shuri to expect us soon,” Steve said, placing his duffle bag on the dining table. 

You nodded, “Well, let’s not keep her waiting.” 

~*~*~*~ 

**The Citadel.** **Wakanda** **. Late October 2017.**

As the sun set dipped below the horizon, your portal opened to the entrance of The Citadel in the middle of The Golden City much to the surprise of the troop of Dora Milaje that happened to be passing by. As you closed the portal, they encircled you and pointed their spears in your direction. Instinctively, you and Steve raised your hands above your heads. They closed ranks around the pair of you until you heard a familiar voice shout, “Yima phantsi!” _(“Stand down!”_ ) 

Okoye broke through the circle of Dora members and looked at you sternly. Steve nodded to the general and lowered his hands, “Ma’am.” 

She nodded to the super-soldier, “Captain Rogers.” She turned and looked at you with a subtle smile, “Agent L/N.” 

“Nice to see you, General,” you said, returning her smile as you lowered your hands. The troop of Dora Milaje lowered their weapons and dispersed with a sharp order from Okoye. 

She eyed both of you carefully, “When I was told to expect your swift arrival, this was not how I imagined it.” 

“We heard Shuri had news for us, so we wanted to make it here as quickly as possible,” you said. 

“Sorry, if we caused any trouble,” Steve apologized. 

Okoye waved away his concern and turned her palm upward, hailing T’Challa via her Kimoyo beads. 

“General,” he greeted as his hologram appeared above her palm. 

“My King,” she replied. “Our princess’ visitors have arrived.” 

T’Challa raised an eyebrow, “It has only been a few hours.” 

“It seems Captain Rogers and Agent L/N have discovered a faster way to travel than by Quinjet,” the general answered. 

T’Challa seemed puzzled but nodded, “Very well. I am with Shuri at Wakandan Design Group Headquarters. Prepare the Royal Talon Fighter and meet us there.” 

“That won’t be necessary, motănel,” you replied. _(“little tomcat.”)_ “Where are you in Shuri’s lab?” 

“We are in Sergeant Barnes’ room,” he answered. 

You nodded, stepping away from the others, and opened a portal via your Sling Ring, revealing an incredibly surprised king. You smiled and waved, “Hello, your highness.” Okoye chuckled at her king’s expression. Steve just smirked and shook his head. You gestured for them to step through and followed them, closing the portal behind you. 

Steve and T’Challa shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. You nodded to Shuri’s lab assistants before your eyes settled on the cryo-chamber in the middle of the room. All the noise in the laboratory faded away as you approached the pod. You could see Bucky’s face clearly despite the frosted glass. His expression more peaceful than you had ever witnessed. Involuntarily, you reached up and placed your hand on the glass. He looked the same as he did the night he left. Your eyes misted over blurring his form. 

You weren’t exactly sure why you were crying. Was it due to seeing him in person again after almost a whole year? Was it because of the way he had left things? You missed him terribly; that much was certain. But deep down you were still angry with Bucky. He lied. He left. Was it with good intentions? Absolutely. But, like you had told Clint, that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Feelings you thought you had dealt with months ago came surging back, crashing over you, reopening wounds you had long thought healed. 

You felt Steve’s hand on the small of your back. “Hey, you okay?” he asked. 

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah,” you sniffed. “I’m good...Sorry.” 

“Ah, I see you have made it in,” Shuri called out. Steve smiled, taking your hand, squeezing it reassuringly as you turned to face the Wakandan princess. She strode up to the pod, tablet in hand. “You were not joking when you said you would be here soon.” You nodded with a small smile as she embraced you. “How did you do it?” 

You chuckled, “I’ll show you later. I promise.” 

Shuri smiled, “I look forward to it.” She turned to T’Challa. “Have you told them anything yet, brother?” 

T’Challa shook his head, “I have not. This is your project. I would not dare take any credit for your arduous work nor would I wish to leave anything out.” 

“Y/N said you have some good news,” Steve said. “News that you wanted to explain to us in person.” 

Shuri beamed at the pair of you and nodded. “We have finally perfected the algorithm.” 

Your breath left your body and your grip tightened on Steve’s hand. 

“You mean-” Steve started, not wanting to get his hopes up. 

Shuri nodded, “Once the algorithm has erased the programming, Sergeant Barnes will be a free man.” 

~*~*~*~ 

**The Citadel.** **Wakanda** **. Late October 2017.**

The next morning, you sipped coffee on the balcony outside the palace apartments, mulling over the information provided by Shuri. If all went well, by her calculations, Bucky would be awake in as little as two weeks. You should have been ecstatic, jumping for joy. But your stomach knotted in trepidation. Your fingers drummed on the mug of coffee in your hands as your mind explored every possible scenario, both the good and the bad. 

“You’re up early,” Steve said as he moved to stand next to you, drawing you out of your thoughts. 

“Didn’t sleep too much last night,” you said, taking a sip of your now lukewarm coffee. 

“Yeah, me either.” 

“You talk to Nat?” 

“I did. She and the others are glad to finally hear some good news for once. They can't wait until he’s back.” He turned to smile down at you. You simply nodded. “What’s wrong?” he asked with a frown. 

You shook your head, “I’m fine.” 

“You don’t look fine.” 

“Then stop looking.” 

Steve pressed his lips together and continued to stare at you, waiting for you to speak. A beat of silence passed before you were able to voice your fears. “I just...What if he’s not the same person, Steve?” you whispered, looking up at your friend. “What...What if...he comes out of this completely different?” Tears burned behind your eyes. The atmosphere around you thickened; your greatest fear left unspoken. 

_“What if he decides, I am not what he wants anymore?”_

The blond sighed, “Well, then we learn to love the new James Buchanan Barnes.” You nodded minutely before turning your attention back to the sunrise behind Mount Bashenga. After a few moments, Steve spoke again. “Are you going to take T’Challa and Shuri up on their offer and stay here until it’s time?” 

You nodded, trailing your finger along the rim of the cup. Your coffee had gone cold a while ago. “I am. As much as I want to help you guys, I need more time to study and practice with my magic. I don’t fully trust myself with it in an actual battle situation just yet.” 

“That’s understandable.” 

“If anything changes, I will likely rejoin you. I don’t think I could handle just sitting around here waiting.” 

Steve nodded, “We’ll be happy to have you.” 

The corners of your mouth ticked upward in a slight smile, “Thanks.” 

A small smile flitted across his features before he looked you in the eye once more. “The mission in Colorado...I never thanked you for what you did for Sam...” 

You waved him off, “I protect the people I love. I love all of you. You're my family.” 

Steve sighed, “Still... It’s just...before he went under, I promised Bucky I would keep you safe no matter what.” You nodded in understanding, knowing had you been in Bucky’s position you would have done the same thing. “So, I’m sorry for waiting so long to thank you...And for forcing you to stay behind.” 

You shook your head, “Don’t be – you had a good reason.” 

“It doesn’t make it right.” 

You smiled and patted his arm. “If you hadn’t then I wouldn’t have discovered Tony’s farce of a murder trial and The Mystic Arts...so, I suppose I should be the one thanking you.” 

Steve huffed, unconvinced and still ashamed. 

“I needed the time alone, I think,” you turned back to face Mount Bashenga, the sun peeked over the summit. The rays of golden light formed a magnificent crown that encircled Bast’s head. “Time to rethink everything about my life and who I am.” 

Steve tilted his head to the side, studying you as he patiently waited for you to continue. “For so long, finding the reason for my sister’s death was my whole reason for living. When I finally put that to rest, it was helping Bucky overcome his demons. Then when he left, burning down HYDRA fueled my fire. Hell, even when you forced me to stay behind, I continued to look for a way to help even though I knew Shuri had everything under control.” 

You looked back out toward the Wakandan landscape. “For almost ten years, I never focused on myself – I always focused on other people. Once that was stripped from me, I was forced to think about who I am as a person without something or someone consuming my every waking thought. And I realized I didn’t want to be someone who was defined just by what I did for other people...or the things I hated...or the things I was most afraid of. I wanted to be something more. I wanted to do something for myself...to make something of myself. And, like it or not, you helped me do that by doing what you did...” you looked back at him once more, filling your voice with sincerity, “...so thank you.” 

Steve smiled at you, “I’ll try to put you in exile more often then.” 

You shoved him playfully and he was nice enough to stagger back. You chuckled, “You’re a punk.” 

He gently nudged you back with his shoulder, “Jerk.” 

You both stood and watched as the early morning light chased away the shadows and the city below began to come to life. Steve sighed and stepped back from the balcony. “I should be getting back to the others.” 

You nodded knowingly, slipping on your Sling Ring as Steve gathered his belongings. “I’ll keep you updated.” You raised your hands and opened a portal to the chalet’s living room. 

He nodded and tossed the duffle bag over his shoulder and kissed your cheek, “See you soon, sweetheart.” 

“Later, Specimen.” 

Just as you were about to close the portal, Sam rounded the corner. “Hey!” he called out, “back already?” 

Steve nodded, “I am. Y/N is staying behind.” 

Sam pouted, looking past him to you. You smiled contritely at your friend. Despite your need to train further, you didn’t like the idea of leaving the team again. 

“Come on, Sam,” Wanda singsonged as she opened the terrace door. You could hear the whine of the Quinjet’s engines as it idled on the lawn. “Vis will be in Edinburgh in a few hours; I told him I would meet him at Arthur’s Seat around lunchtime.” You watched as Sam took a deep breath at the mention of the android and closed his eyes. Wanda spotted you and Steve and smiled. “Oh, you’re back! I’m so happy Shuri finally made a breakthrough. Let me know if he wakes up while I’m gone, and I will come right back.” 

You nodded to the redhead, “Will do, Wan.” 

The young Sokovian smiled, “Are you almost ready, Sam?” 

Sam sighed with a slight frown, “Yeah…yeah, I’ll be right there.” Wanda smiled before closing the door and bounding down the terrace steps toward the jet. Steve looked from Sam to you slightly confused. 

Seeing Sam’s downcast expression gave you an idea. “Actually, Shuri has been eager to get a closer look at Sam’s EXO-7 suit,” you lied quickly. Sam cocked an eyebrow. Steve turned to you with a quizzical look. “If it’s okay with you, Sam could stay a while in Wakanda and keep me company?.” You flashed your best impression of Bucky’s puppy-dog stare silently imploring Steve to agree. 

The blond eyed you carefully and then Sam before nodding. “I guess since Wanda gets to take sporadic vacations there is no reason why you shouldn’t be able to have one too, Sam,” he said with a smile. “I’ll take Wanda to Scotland.” 

A grateful smile broke out across Sam’s face, “Sounds like fun.” 

Steve nodded once and turned to you to give you one final hug. Sam mouthed a _thank you_ to you before grabbing his go-bag from the hooks by the door. He and Steve clasped arms before he stepped through the portal into Wakanda. 

Sam gave Steve a mock salute, “See ya ‘round, Cap.” 

Steve smiled and waved goodbye at the two of you as you closed the portal. 

As the portal disappeared, Sam turned to you. “The princess doesn’t really want to see my wings, does she?” 

You shrugged, “Not that she’s told me. But I’m sure once we tell her you need a few upgrades she will want to. Also, I figured you could use a break.” 

He nodded, taking in his surroundings, “Thank you.” 

You smiled cheekily at him, “Besides, I need someone to practice my magic on.” 

“If Princess Genius gives my wings some desperately needed upgrades, you can turn me into a newt or a toad for all I care.” 

~*~*~*~ 

**Shuri’s** **Lab.** **Wakanda** **. November 2017.**

A week had passed since you arrived in Wakanda. In that time, Okoye had given you and Sam the use of one of the Dora Milaje’s many gyms in which to train. She and Nakia would often spar with the both of you. You enjoyed learning new moves and techniques from the spy and the general and watching Okoye knock Sam on his ass. 

In your quarters provided by Queen Ramonda and T’Challa, you would practice your spells in the Mirror Dimension, sometimes taking Sam with you when you needed to practice your illusions and transmutations. 

You finished some of the books you had brought with you from the Sanctum, making good progress in your mystical studies. So, taking Stephen up on his offer, you conjured a gateway in the library and to borrow more books, waving cheekily to Wong if you managed to give him a good scare. 

Shuri remained optimistic regarding Bucky’s full recovery. She provided you with constant updates and allowed you to visit the lab whenever you wished. Late in the evenings, you would find yourself sitting next to the cryo-pod, staring at the sleeping form of your lover. You would watch the monitors of his heart rate and brain waves finding the rhythmic refrain of the beeps comforting. You idly wondered if he dreamt and if so, what about? 

This night you visited the lab as usual. But, as you closed the portal from your Citadel apartment, the sight of Shuri bent over a workbench startled you. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, as the princess looked up from one of her many projects. “I wasn’t aware you were still here.” 

She waved you off, returning her attention to her workstation. “It is quite alright. Do not let me interrupt your nightly pining.” 

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks and breathed an embarrassed laugh. “Well, I just...” 

She breathed a laugh at your discomfort. You glanced at the objects on the table in front of her, recognizing a familiar matte black fabric. You stepped toward her. “Is that my S.H.I.E.L.D. tactical suit?” you asked, running your fingers along the fabric. You noted the giant hole in the jacket and the shredded waistband of the pants, both garments beyond repair. 

“It is.” Shuri shook her head in disbelief, “How you wore this flimsy thing out in the field I will never understand.” 

You scoffed audibly. “This is S.H.I.E.L.D.’s best. It’s got state-of-the-art ballistic protection. It's saved my life many times over.” You rubbed the fabric in between your fingers, feeling protective over the suit that had been with you since the beginning. 

“State-of-the-art?” Shuri balked, “Are you forgetting that an explosion of alien weaponry blew your side open while you were wearing this thing?” 

“Well, I’m not dead so I count that as a win,” you deadpanned. 

Shuri snorted, “Yes, because of my genius, not to mention an emergency blood transfusion courtesy of one of your teammates.” 

You crossed your arms with a huff, “Well, S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t factor in Chitauri weapon explosions in their testing phase.” 

Shuri chuffed and gave the suit a final once over before balling it up and tossing it into a wastebasket that immediately incinerated it. 

Your eyes widened in shock. “What the hell, Shuri?!” you gasped. 

“Just because something works does not mean it cannot be improved,” she said smugly, dusting off her hands. “I can make you something better than that. Something not as outdated and bulky.” 

You opened and closed your mouth multiple times, trying to form words, “No...no, it’s fine, Shuri...really. I’m not...I’m not sure if I even want to go back out into the field.” you stammered, trying your best to sound convincing. 

Shuri rolled her eyes and stared at you, unconvinced, “Psh, I am already working on a replacement vibranium arm for the White Wolf.” She gestured to the cryo-pod that held Bucky. “As well as new wings for the Falcon.” She pointed to her blueprints for a new EXO-7 suit for Sam. “And you and I both know you are eager to get back out there. Otherwise, you wouldn’t train so much.” You moved to say something, but she held up her hand, “What is adding another suit to my ever-growing list of projects? Now come let us go over some designs. I have already put together a few mock-ups, but I want your honest opinion.” 

~*~*~*~ 

With Thanksgiving approaching, Shuri estimated the program would be completed any day now, almost a full year after Bucky went under. You had grown more confident in your conjuring and casting abilities, having endlessly trained with magical weapons and shields against Nakia, Okoye and Sam. Today, Shuri informed you and Sam that your suits were ready. 

Walking into her lab, an excited ball of energy sat in your gut. With your new confidence in your abilities and a new suit, you couldn’t wait to get back out in the field with Steve and the others, eager to make a difference. And this time, Bucky would be by your side. Fear and doubt forgotten as he would no longer be HYDRA’s puppet. 

Shuri spotted the pair of you as you entered and politely excused herself from the conversation with her research assistants. She beamed with pride as she approached. “I do believe I have outdone myself this time,” she said, her voice giddy as she led you and Sam into an adjoining room. Sam’s EXO-7 laid out on a table; its wings spread wide. Per Sam’s request, the suit was not completely remade just modified. The suit now sported wings of vibranium and a few more weapons. The former airman smiled as he tried on the pack. 

“And I thought it couldn’t get any lighter,” he said, moving around. “It feels like nothing.” He stepped back from the table and monitors and engaged the wings. Effortlessly, they unfolded with more grace and ease than the last ones had. But they remained just a durable and strong as their predecessor if not more so. 

“Looking fly, Bird Brain,” you teased. 

Sam laughed in excitement as Shuri opened a panel of windows overlooking The Great Mound and the Maglev trains that surrounded it. He leapt out of the window with a loud whoop as he engaged the thrusters and flew a few passes around Wakandan Design Headquarters. With ease he flew back into the lab, disengaging the wings as soon as his feet touched the floor. “Oh yeah,” he approved with a nod, removing his goggles. “This is awesome, princess. Thank you.” 

Shuri smiled as Sam removed his wings. “I am glad you approve.” She turned to you, gesturing to an empty mannequin, save for Hunter’s bracelet around its left wrist. She bounced on her toes as she removed the oath ring and handed it to you. “I have made so many improvements with these new nanites; I am planning on re-making my brother’s suit as well,” she said, gesturing for you to put it on. 

You slid the bracelet over your wrist, noting the weight of it didn’t feel any different than before. The brass gleamed in the lights of the lab; the amber eyes of the cats of Freyja at each end glinted almost intelligently. You looked to Shuri unsure of what to do next. “Now, since you do not have an implant like my brother, you will need to activate the suit by double-tapping both cat heads at the same time. You will also use the same gesture to deactivate the suit.” 

You nodded, stepping in front of the full-length mirror Shuri’s assistants had brought out. With a deep breath, you closed your eyes and tapped the bracelet. You felt a slight tingling sensation as the vibranium nanites ran along your body, tinkling together as they formed the suit around you. With a final flourish of cool vibranium encircling your head, the room went silent. 

“Ooooo!” Sam exclaimed, “You look so badass, Nightingale!” 

Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, revealing your reflection. Your jaw dropped with a gasp. “How the-” you struggled to form words, “What...is that me?” 

Your gaze flicked from your reflection to the reflection of those behind you. Sam beamed nodding his head approvingly. Shuri clapped her hands together, trying her best not to squeal with delight. 

The suit snugly fit every curve and dip of your body. Golden pauldrons with plates reminiscent of feathers adorned each shoulder. Long sleeves ending bracers and fingerless gloves covered your arms. A dark-gray duster cape flowed from your waist which was given structure by gold latticework. The leggings of the suit ended with boots like the ones given to you by T’Challa in Siberia except these ended with a slight wedge heel. For all its structure, the suit was light and breathable. You would be able to move with ease. The suit’s color enamored you most – a faded navy not unlike Bucky’s Howling Commandos uniform. A golden-winged crown sat atop your head. The wings resting by your ears dipping down to trace your jawline and the tips extending slightly upward. It reminded you of the drawing of Freyja Hunter used to use for her hacker persona. 

You pressed your hands together and brought them to your lips. “Shuri,” you breathed, “this suit is amazing.” 

The princess smiled smugly as she approached you, “I know it is.” You snorted a laugh. “It’s fully bulletproof; you will not even feel the impact of most bullets. The nanites will regenerate missing parts of the suit if you decide to get another hole blown in your side.” You stuck your tongue out at her. Sam snorted. “There are holsters for your guns on each thigh and one on your waistband.” She pointed out the pockets to you. “There are also numerous hidden pockets for knives and your computer hacking equipment.” 

You nodded, “Handy.” 

Shuri smiled and gestured for one of her research assistants. A young man came forward with a sleek matte-gray case and opened it. Sam let loose a low wolf whistle. A beautiful vibranium prosthetic arm rested on top a pillow of satin fabric. The dark silver plates were interspersed with plates of gold, reminding you of the Japanese art of mending broken pottery with golden lacquer, kintsugi. Another assistant brought out another mannequin wearing a navy structured jacket and deep brown tactical pants along with a pair of matching boots. “A new arm and suit for the White Wolf.” Shuri beamed as you ran your gloved hand down the vibranium plates of the arm. 

A smile played across your lips as you took in the similarities of your and Bucky’s new suits – a matched set. “You really have outdone yourself, Shuri,” you said. 

Shuri tucked her bottom lip in between her teeth like a child busting at the seams to spill a secret. “There is more.” 

You and Sam balked, “More?!” 

Shuri nodded handing you an earpiece. You slipped it in your ear slightly confused. It was just a regular comm link, right? Maybe it had been specially fit for you or something. That was useful, but nothing to get super-excited over. 

“How’s it going, Sammy?” a voice singsonged from the earpiece. 

You knew that voice. You knew that nickname. Tears sprang to your ears, prompting Sam to lay a comforting hand on your arm in concern. “What...what is this?” you asked Shuri. 

“The program I developed to rid Sergeant Barnes of the influence of the trigger words is the basis of Wakanda’s newest artificial intelligence application. This is a beta version I had tailored for you and your team to test out.” Shuri said with pride, handing Sam an earpiece as well. “The AI has access to Sam’s suit as well just in case the other’s go on a mission without you.” 

Sam raised an eyebrow as he placed the comm in his ear, “Like F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” 

“Oh, c’mon, Wilson. I am so much more than Tony Stark’s glorified secretary,” the AI quipped. “For starters, I am not bound by an internet connection. Where the suit goes, I go.” 

The familiarity of the voice sent shivers down your spine causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand up. “Why does she sound like my sister?” Sam gaped at you. 

“When Princess Genius over here programmed me,” the AI answered, “she figured she would give me a voice and mannerisms she knew you would be comfortable with. I have analyzed everything regarding Hunter L/N. Her social media, hacker signatures, videos, and photos.” 

Shuri nodded, “Honestly, I could have not explained it better myself.” 

“You gotta name?” you asked the AI. 

“Honestly, my technical name quite long so why don’t you choose a nickname?” 

You thought for a moment, “How about Dean? Since you called me Sammy.” 

You could almost hear the AI shrug, “I can live with that.” 

Sudden alarms rang out from the monitors surrounding the cryo-chamber. You double-tapped on your bracelet causing your new suit to disappear in an instant. Shuri hastened over to the main computer displaying a scan of Bucky’s brain and pressed numerous buttons and typed in various commands. “What’s going on?” you asked worriedly, gripping Sam’s hand. 

“I think Sarge is finally ready to wake up,” Dean answered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR NOTES:
> 
> OUR BOY IS FINALLY WAKING UP! 
> 
> ARE YOU READY?
> 
> How do you think the reader will react?
> 
> Also, you like the suit? I love the suit. I had so much fun finding design inspo for the suit. If you wanna check it out you can click this link or search gingerthestormwich on Pinterest. 
> 
> https://www.pinterest.com/gingerthestormwitch/superhero-suit-inspo/
> 
> As always, if you are loving the story, please comment, leave kudos and share it with your friends. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> P.S. Beginning quote from "The Kill" by Thirty Seconds to Mars. Although I was mainly inspired by the Halocene version.


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